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STANDARD UemRY EDITION 




A BACHELOR'S ROMANCE 

AN 

ORIGINAL PLAY 

IN 

FOUR ACTS 

BY 
MARTHA MORTON 



Copyright. 1912, by Martha Morton Coaheim 



CAUTION. — All persoos are hereby warned that *'A Bachelor** 
Romance" being fully protected under the copyright laws of the 
United States, is subject to royalty, and anyone presenting the play 
without the consent of the author or her authorized agent, will be 
liable to the penalties by law provided. We will be pleased to 
quote royalty for amateur production on application. 



New York 
SAMUEL FRENCH 

PUBLISHER 

28-30 WEST 38th STREET 



London 
SAMUEL FRENCH, Ltd. 
26 Southampton Street 
STRAND 




^**% 



A BACHELOR'S ROMANCE 

Produced by Mr. Sol Smith Russell; September 16, 1896 



ORIGINAL CAST t '~'^^^'^c^ 

DAVID HOLMES— Literary Critic on The Review. 

Sol Smith Russell. 

GEEALD HOLMES— His brother— pleasure-loving 
— a man of the world. Arthur Forrest. 

MARTIN BEGGS— David's secretary and confiden- 
tial man. George Denham. 

HAROLD REYNOLDS— On the staff of The Re- 
vieiv. Sidney Booth. 

MR. MULBERRY— A literary man, with a classical 
education — which he cannot turn into money. 

Alfred Hudson. 

"SAVAGE" — A modern literary man. 

Charles Mackay. 
MISS CLEMANTINA— A maiden lady, with a 

sharp tongue. Mrs. Fanny Adison Pitt. 

HELEN LE GRAND— David's sister— a widow of 

the world. Beatrice Moreland. 

HARRIET LEICESTER— A society girl. 

Nita Allen. 
SYLVIA SOMERS— David's ward. 

Annie Russell. 
JAMES— 

AQ'-F I — David's Study in Washington Square. 
ACT II —Helen's Fashionable Home, Murry Hill, 

New York, 
ACT Ill—David's Study. Same as Act I. 
ACT IV — Miss Clemantina's Home in the Country. 



eci.L) 313^-3 



A BACHELOR'S ROMANCE 

ACT I 

SCENE.— David Holmes' apartments in the cupola 
of a studio building, Washington Square, 
Old fashioned and comfortable. Entrance L 1 
from exterior — entrance r 1 into adjoining 
room — also little winding stair into cupola — 
leading out on balcony — view through window 
over tops of houses. Spring sky — ledges of 
roofs. 

DISCOVERED.— Martin at his desk L— sorting 
papers, filing them away, etc. A knock at door. 

Mr. Mulberry puts in his head l. 2. 

Mr. Mulberry, {about 50, very ivorn and tired — 
shrunk up — hopeless kind of manner. Very shabby 
and greasy clothes. Holds door half open, poking 
his head in — looking around anxiously with a soft, 
tired voice) Is Mr. Holmes in? 

Martin, {zvithout looking up) Not yet, Mr. Mul- 
berry; he's been detained later than usual at the 
office. 

Mulberry. Something important, Martin? 

Martin, {non-commital) A consultation with the 
proprietor — 

Mulberry, {slides into room, pauses, up c, looks 
anxiously at Martin, who seems engrossed in his 
work.^ Creeps to fireplace, up l., sits down in a 
capacious armchair in front of it, and with a sigh 
of satisfaction, warms his hands — pauses) Martin, 



4 A BACHELOR'S ROMANCE 

have you a copy of this week's Review ? I don't like 
to miss Mr. Holmes's fine scholarly editorials. 

Martin, (l. pointing to desk, k) Last week's in 
there — this week's coming out this afternoon. 

Mulberry, {rumaging among papers on table, E. 
and talcing the Revieiu sits down R. cuts paper) A 
very reliable solid paper, this — the only literary 
sheet worth reading. 

Martin. Thanks to Mr. Holmes, who made it 
what it is. 

Mulberry, (r.) Now what other paper could 
afford to oifer ten thousand dollars for the best prize 
story? What do you think of it, Martin? 

Martin, (l.) I'm opposed to competition in 
general — and literary competition in particular. 

Mulberry., (r.) I never had the nerve to com- 
pete with anybody. I started out, hampered by a 
classical education. I soon found out publishers did 
not care for Homer as much as I did. Nobody 
wants essays or critical reviews — except on new 
books, and there's nothing in neiu books, (sighs 
and shakes his head) I'm trying for that ten thous- 
sand dollars. 

Martin, (l. looking up) Are you? 

Mulberry, (r.) Yes — the scene of my story is 
laid in Olympia — it's a romance of the Grecian 
gods — 

Martin, (l. thawing out a little) Confidence 
for confidence — I am trying for it too, Mr. Mulberry. 
I'm a realist — I've written a character sketch, taken 
from life. 

Mulberry. That must be a very unpleasant 

story. My experience teaches me anything taken 

from life is very disagreeable. 

{A brisk doiible knock at the door, Mr. Savage 

enters quickly, R., a man about 25 — very quick 

and active — Bolifniiian in appearance, a^es to c.) 



A BACHELOR'S ROMANCE 5 

Savage, (c, in light hantering tones to Mul- 
berry) Ah ! — Hail to you — "Wise man of Greece." 

Mulberry, (seated at fire-place) Hail to you, 
Phoebus Apollo. 

Savage, (c. to Martin) I ran in to congratu- 
late Mr. Holmes. He deserves it. 

Martin, (l.) Deserves what? 

Savage. You have evidently not seen this week's 
Review, (takes it tvith a number of other papers 
out of his pocket — reads) "Mr. David Holmes, the 
literary critic and the author of many popular books 
of travel, has been selected to decide who shall be 
the winner of the ten thousand dollar prize offered 
by the Review for the best serial story. 

Martin and Mulberry. Ah!— Ah!— 

Savage, (ivith an important air) I am trying 
for the ten thousand dollar prize. 

Martin. (Martin and Mulberry exchange 
looks) And what may your story be about, Mr. 
Savage ? 

Savage. My same old hobby — Naturalism — I 
lash the over-extravagance and luxuriousness of the 
age — I show a society of fin de siecle — ladies and 
gentlemen — giving up their luxurious homes and 
going back to nature — I show them working side by 
side — barefooted in the fields — barefooted — mind 
you — producing what they consume — I show a grad- 
ual revival of the natural faculties — they love, hate, 
laugh, weep, marry and have large families like 
common peasants — I am sounding the note of warn- 
ing in the ears of the rich — It's a great satisfaction 
to a poor devil without a penny in his pocket. 

Martin. You're a crank. Savage, (exit l.) 
(Mulberry rise, ivith 7iewspaper, xes up — and sits on 
ladder c — leading to roof) 

Savage. Oh ! — very well — everyone to his con- 



6 A BACHELOR'S ROMANCE 

viction — and the best man wins. (Sit down L. of B. 
desJc, takes up hooh; Mulberry^ nose in paper. 
Door opens quietly, and Mr. David Holmes enters 
L. X. to desh E., a man of about forty — looks older. 
Hair streaked tvith grey — rather careless in attire — 
arm full of hooks and papers, and umbrella. A 
type of a hard-working journalist. David puts a 
small bag full of papers and books carefully on desk, 
then takes a package of MS out of pocket, and puts 
them on desk.) 

David. Good evening, (abscntmindedly drops coat, 
hat and umbrella. Takes hook out of his pocket — 
opens it — stands at table — lie becomes absorbed in it.) 

Mulberry, (on the steps c) It's a great honor — 

David. What's a great honor? (points to paper 
in his hands) Oh ! you mean — well it may be a great 
honor, but don't congratulate me until I have ac- 
quitted myself creditably. It's a heavy responsibil- 
ity. I wish they had given it to somebody else. 
(puts on old frayed-out tvorking jacket, very much 
the worse for ivcar, and ink stains all over it — which 
hangs hack of chair. Puts his hands on package) 
Here they are — twenty of them, selected from the 
hundreds sent in. (They all look eagerly at the 
package, from which he takes off paper and string. 
Puts them in drawer and locks it. Then sits down 
at his desk) Want something to do, Mr. Savage? 

Savage. Badly as usual — Mr. Holmes. 

David, (giving him a number of books) Eeview 
these will you? I want them done at once — there's 
a desk in the other room. 

Savage, (rise, gratefully) Oh, thank you, Mr. 
Holmes. (Go to door r. stops — David sits doiun to 
desk, puts on spectacles, takes up pen, spreads paper 
in front of him) — (by R. door) No signature, of 
course ? 



A BACHELOR'S ROMANCE 7 

David. Xo — it will be printed under general crit- 
icism. 

Savage, (to David, confidentially) Mr. Holmes 
— I have a story in the competition. 

David. {Int. Indignantly.) Savage! That's not 
right. I don't want to know wlio's got a story in 
the competition. I want to judge this matter from 
an impartial standpoint. Get out — 

(Savage exits quichly n. 2.) 

David. What can I do for you Mulberry? 

MuLBERKY. (emharrassed) I wanted to ask you 
what I ought to get for an old copy of Plato's Re- 
public — {hands book) rare binding — genuine — 

David, {takes it out of his hand, runs through 
it and examines it as a connoisseur) Will ten dol- 
lars buy it? {puts hook on desk) 

Mulberry. Oh! Mr. Holmes. 

(David puts his hand in his pockets, then~ opens 
drawer, takes out a ten dollar hill and hands it 
to Mulberry, who during this had taken up 
the hook and caressed it softly — then put it 
down with a sigh) 

Mulberry. Thank you, Mr. Holmes. 
David. Don't speak of it. If I go on, I'll own 
your entire library. 

{Exit Mulberry l. 2. e.) 

(Martin re-enters l. tvith tray, sets it on David's 
desk. ) 

Martin, {stands above desk r.) Your supper, 
sir. (David looks over tray) 

David. Thank you, Martin, {goes on writing, 
forgets all about supper) 

Martin, {to him, quietly — speaks at his elbow) 
A letter, sir. It's been lying on your desk for two 
days, read it sir — 



8 A BACHELOR'S ROMANCE 

David. Eead it yourself. 

(READY WHISTLE) 

Martin. I have sir — but I think you'd better 
glance over it. (at his elbow) It's from Miss 
Clemantina, sir. 

David, (writing) Is it? — What does she say? 
She received her allowance and the birthday present 
for the child? 

Martin, (l. of desk r.) Yes, sir— but Miss 
Clemantina is very angry with you for keeping away 
60 long — she wants to see you about Miss Sylvia — 

David, (dropping pen) Why can she want to 
see me about Sylvia? 

^ Martin. As the child's father left her to you, 
sir, perhaps Miss Clem thinks you ought to have a 
hand in her bringing up — 

David. Don't be a fool, Martin— what can I do 
in the bringing up of a child. Henry Somers was as 
dear to me as my own brother, but to die and leave 
me a baby— a girl baby to look after— it— it wasn't 
kind of him to serve me like that. 

Martin. I suggested Miss Clemantina taking 
the child, because she was an old family stand-by — 
when I was a bookkeeper in your father's store, she 
used to come down — flounce about and turn my 
head for the day. (sighs) It's twenty odd years 
ago, Mr. David, since you said to your father "I'm 
sick of trafficking in money— and you put on your 
hat and walked out of the place, and I followed you. 

David, (laying his hand on Martin's arm) 
You've been a faithful friend to me, Martin, and 
the very best thing you ever did for me was getting 
Miss Clemantina to take charge of the child. I've 
tried to do my duty, but I can't get over to see 
her— I haven't time. I'll go next Sunday— remind 
me, Martin, will vou? 



A BACHELOR'S ROMANCE 9 

Martin, (l. of David's desk) I've reminded 
you every Sunday — sir — for the last ten years. 

David, (uneasily) Don't forget this Sunday — 
Martin, and if I can't make the time keep on at 
me, until I do. 

Martin, (go to dcsh l. — sit down) Yes, sir. 

David, (takes cup of tea — a whistle through the 
tube — David starts) Martin, I told you to stuff that 
tube with something — 

Martin, (at tube l.) (rising, goes to tuhe l) 
I did, sir. But they blow the wad out every time. 
The person's coming upstairs — it's a young person 
by the light step — 

David. Another author who is trying for the 
prize? I can't see him — I'm engaged. 
Martin. I'll lock the door. 
David. Wait Martin — it might be some poor 
devil — I could help. But I won't talk prize story 
to him — I'll draw the line there. 
(Martin down to his desk, sits l. c. David at his 
desk R. — pause — a timid knock — L. The door 
L. is pushed timidly open, and Sylvia stands at 
the threshold, a very quaint, little figure of a 
country girl, dressed in an old-fashioned but 
picturesque way.) 

Sylvia, (l., stands at enf ranee, luatching the 
two men, who sit at their desks with hands over 
their ivork, aside) (goes to Martin) Good eve- 
ning, Mr. Holmes. (Martin looks up, makes a mo- 
tion towards David) (aside) Oh ! — (crosses to Dav- 
id's desk R.) Good evening. (David falls back in 
astonishment) 

Sylvia. I'm an author. 
David. YOU— 



10 A BxiCHELOR'S ROMANCE 

Sylvia. Yes, I'm trying for the ten thousand 
dollar prize — my name is — 

David, {interrupting) Please — I don't want to 
know your name! It might prejudice me against 
your story. 

{Begin to ivorlc lights down slowly.) 

Sylvia, (l. c.) But I wanted to explain — 

David, (r. Int.) I — I'd rather you wouldn't 
—you can't explain to the reading public — 

Sylvia, {with a groan of disappointment) I — 
I — thought you were a kind man — but I see you 
don't take any interest, {looks ah out nervously) 
And — I've come such a long way — I'm so tired — {as 
if ready to cry) 

David, {site sits on sofa c.) I didn't mean to be 
unkind, but it seems so preposterous — a young imma- 
ture thing like you to invent anything in the way of 
fiction. 

Sylvia, (c.) I haven't invented anything. I 
keep a diary — which I write in, every night before 
I go to bed, I put it all together, and sent it. 

David, {becoming interested) That's a very good 
idea, Martin. An awakening soul's first impression. 
(Martin grunts disapprovingly) 

Sylvia. My story's called "The Charity ('hild" 
because I live on the bounty of people, {pathet- 
ically) My father died and left me in care of a 
gentleman whom I have never seen. I'm living with 
a maiden lady. He pays my board. She's very good 
to me, but she's kinder soured on things, and I get 
BO tired of listening to how wicked the world is. 
She^s opposed to everything — are you? 

David, {writing, head down — not much inter- 
ested — ) Yes ! Oh ! — no — no. 

Sylvia, {innocently) How about concerts? 

David, {still busy wriling) Perfectly harmless 
■ — when they play in tune. 



A BACHELOR'S KOT^IANCE 11 

Sylvia, {confidentially) I'm invited by a young 
man who comes down to visit a neighbor of ours to 
go to a college "Glee Concert"— he knows you— 
he's on your paper — Harold Keynolds. 

David, {looking up) It's not my paper— I'm 
only the editor— Harold's a manly honorable young 
fellow. 

Sylvia. I'll go to the concert. Shall I ? I can't 
be shut up forever — can I? 

David {regarding her gravely — for the first time) 
I don't see how you could — ^you'll find an outlet 
somewhere. Go by all m.eans, and if your lady rel- 
ative objects— send her to me. I'll try to convince 
her that you should have a little suitable enjoyment. 

Sylvia, {impulsively) Oh! Thank you— you're 
60 good and — {looking at him attentively) You are 
not a bit old— are you ? I thought when everybody 
talked about you that you were so wise and lived 
so many years and knew everything in the world — 

David. I — I think I look older than I am. 

Sylvia. I must go now — Harold is waiting for 
me — I must say goodbye — you'll see me again. ( Syl- 
via curtseys — goes to door l. 2 E. looks back at 
them, laughs a peal of laughter and exits L. 2 E.) 

David, {looks at Martin, looking after her) 
Youth, Hope, Freshness — if we could put that into 
our writings — but we can't — we're shop worn, Mar- 
tin — shop worn. 

Maetin. You've made yourself accessory to an 
act of insubordination, sir, the results may be graver 
than you imagine. 

David, {good humoredly). I'll shoulder them! 
(Martin goes to lack of desk) I know what it 
means to live with people who want to grind you 
down to their way of thinking, {abstractedly) At 
twenty, I took life in my own hands and fought it 
alone.* I've had no time to be young, no time for 



12 A BACHELOR'S ROMANCE 

gaiety — or love, like other men, and now — it is too 
late. It is shameful, this sweet young girl, neg- 
lected by a selfish old man — I can see him — wrap- 
ped up in his own comfort. Not thinking of her 
forlorn young life — I'd like to tell him what I think 
of him — the old skinflint, {paces up and down) 

Martin, (l.) Dr. David, I haven't seen you 
so excited in a long time. 

David, (c.) People annoy me. They don't 
know what duty means. Martin, just drop a line to 
Miss Clemautina — I'll be there on Sunday — to talk 
over matters — pertaining to the training and edu- 
cation of my ward. Don't let anything interfere 
with that, Martin. 

Martin. No, sir — I vv^on't. 

David, {sits doivn, at his desTc, composes him- 
self to work and arranges his light and papers — 
commencing to read, shows signs of impatience) 
Martin — 

Martin. Yes, sir — 

David. Where is that college glee concert to be 
held? I used to sing in a chorus myself — 

Martin, {rises) I'll go and get a newspaper 
and find out, if you wish. 

David. You do get an idea sometimes, Martin. 

Martin, {with a grin) Now and again, sir. 
{go out — R. 2 E., return, tal-e lunch off, sounds of 
noises on stairs) Mr. Gerald and Miss Helen are 
coming up sir — 

David, {sternly, straightening himself up) My 
brother and sister — what can they want here? 
{closes hooJc ivith a lang. Frowns — Martin exits 
quietly) 

Gerald, {enter at door, L. very foppish, pale, 
dissipated looking) Any more stairs? 

Helen, {young widow, rather artificial in man- 
ner — in deep fashionahle mourning) {gasping) 



A BACHELOR'S ROIMANCE 13 

Oh! I haven't a breath left in my body, {sit on 
sofa) David, why will you live on the top of a 
building without an elevator? 

Gerald. Confoundedly inconsiderate — (l. c.) 

David, (coldly) I prefer no elevator, because 
it makes my habitation more difficult of access. 
(crosses up io luindoiv, throws it open, showing tops 
of houses, full view of sky and red moon just ris- 
ing) 

Gerald, (c. lightly) Every man to his taste — 
for you, a sky parlor and musty old books — for me 
"Wine, Women and Song." I suppose you'd like to 
know wliy I've forced my unwelcome presence upon 
you, if I don't see you once a year, you'd forget my 
existence, and I don't want you to do that, (puts 
his arm around David.) 

David, (r. of Gerald) I forget you, Gerald — 
I think of you very often, but it's a remembrance, 
which is very painful to me at times. 

Gerald, (drops his arm from around David) 
Don't lecture, please. Because we are brotliers, that's 
no reason why we should be alike. I suppose you 
still owe me a grudge, because father cut you off — ■ 
I would have made it all right — I'm willing still, 
but you won't let me. 

David, (c. coldly) You didn't climb all the 
way up my stairs for useless recriminations — my 
father had a right to do what he liked with his 
money. I can earn all I need, and enough to give 
a little away — more would be a burden to me. Are 
you well, little sister? 

Helen" (down c) (ivith a pout) You've not 
troubled yourself very much to find out. 

David. My dear — I don't want you to think I 
have neglected you — I have been promising myself 
to come to see jo\x some Sunday, when I get time. 

Helen (c.) The old story. When you get time. 



14 A BACHELOR'S ROMANCE 

I've seen you twice in two years — the first time on 
my wedding day — the second time — when I buried 
my husband — poor Eobert — he's been dead a year 
tomorrow, 

David. Dear me — you don't say so, how time 
steals away. Poor little sister, you've been unhappy. 

Helen. Happy — unhappy — I've never been either 
— I married a man twice my age — because — well — 
he was very good to me, and I missed — him — at 
first. I have everything money can bu}' — but noth- 
ing interests me — {yawns) 1 think I'll take up 
literature — 

David, (r. sternly) I'd try to be sincere about 
something in life — if I were you. 

Helen. I am — (looks hacJc at Gerald wlio is 
exploring Cupola) About Gerald — but I think you 
ought to take that responsibility off my shoulders, 
David, he's simply running himself to the ground. 
The doctor says — he'll go into a rapid decline — 
if he doesn't stop. 

David. Stop what? 

Helen. Burning the candle at both ends — ho 
must settle down. 

David. Settle down — how? 

Helen. Stupid — there's only one way for a man 
to settle down — to marry — I want you to persuade 
him — David. 

David. I shall do nothing of the kind, (rises, 
crosses to desk l.) 

Gerald, (strolling in) Ah ! Discussing my mat- 
rimonial possibilities — 

David, (l. c.) Helen wants you to marry. 

Gerald. (C.) Helen delights in making people 
miserable, (angrily) I don't see why you trouble 
David with my affairs — he and I are radically un- 
like. He always put his pennies in a tin box, I 
spent mine — that's the difference between us. 



'A BACHELOR'S ROMANCE 15 

David (l. c. regretfully) If it were only the 
money wasted — Gerald. 

Gerald, {rechlessly) You've got your cake— in 
the shape of a good constitution, I've eaten mine— 
I'm off — goodbye. 

David. I— I — I can't let you go in this reckless 
mood — Gerald — wouldn't some other means — affect 
a cure — not quite so severe as marriage? (Helen 
and Gerald laugh) 

Gerald, (l. c. laughs) That old fool of a doc- 
tor — advised farm life. 

David. "Farm life"— just the thing for you. 

Gerald. Thanks— I'll be years enough buried — 
I don't care that — (snapping his fingers) —for my 
life, as long as it lasts— I shall live it— my own way. 
[crosses to door l. 2 E.) 

Helen, (r.) That's just how it always ends — 
when I talk to him. 

David, (c.) Gerald— don't go— stay and spend 
the evening with me, and — read. 

Gerald, {laughingly) {at door l.) And read — 
an unaccustomed diversion — it's the first time you've 
ever asked me — thanks — I will stay awhile and — 
read, {takes hooh and sits down, at chair L.) 

Helen, (r.) David,— tomorrow night, my mourn- 
ing year is up, — I'm going into colors — come and 
dine with me. (aside) I want you to see the girl 
I've picked out for Gerald — 

David, (c.) Impossible — tomorrow. I'll drop 
in next — 

Helen. Year — good-bye. (cross to door) 

David. Helen — don't go— I really think you quite 
as bad in your way, as Gerald. 

Helen. David. 

David. And I'd like to help you— Wait a moment 
—were you in earnest about studying literature? 

Helen, (undecided) — Eh — yes — why ? 



16 A BACHELOR'S ROMANCE 

David, {crosses to door e. — calls) Savage — 
Savage — 

{Enter Savage quicMy—hooh in hand— pen helmi.d 
ear, hair mussed up — very intense — enters rap- 
idly—nearly runs into Helen who recoils) 
Savage, (r. e.) I— I— beg your pardon. 
David, (r.) My sister wants something to inter- 
est her — I recommend YOU — 
Helen, (l. c.) {laughing) Oh! David— 

(r. WHISTLE) 

David. Coach her — give her some ideas — (Ger- 
ald enjoying Helen's discomfiture) — Helen — you 
can arrange terms with him. {sit doivn to desk R.) 

Savage. Madame— my poor talents are at your 
disposal, (r. c. hoivs) 

Helen, {sweetly) Thank you, but I really don't 
know what I want to study. 

Savage, (r. c.) Will you leave that to me — I 
shall — try to be as interesting as possible. (David 
rustles papers impatiently). ^Ye are disturbing your 
brother. May I walk a little way with you? {hoivs) 

Helen, (l. c.) {nods) Certainly, {hoivs in re- 
turn) (Gerald annoyed, Savage rushes to l. — exit 
r. to change coat) 

Helen, (l. towards c.) David— what shall I pay 
this young man? 

David, (r. at desl) Oh! anything— he's strug- 
gling for a living— and I'd like to help him along. 
You can't possibly do him any harm, and he can do 
you a great deal of good. 

Gerald, {comes down c.) Helen — you can't be 
seen with that ink spot. 

Helen. Oh! anything for a novelty — {crosses to 
door — Savage enters, enthusiastically /o David) 



A BACHELOPv'S ROMANCE 17 

Savage, (shal-es Ms hands) Thank you — Mr. 
Holmes — thank you a thousand times, (crosses to 
door L. Bows Helen out rtiuch to her amusement) 

Gerald, (c, in a friendly manner) This is a 
jolly safe place to spend an evening — keeps a fellow 
out of mischief, — eh ! — David ? 

David, (e.) I invited you to read — not to 
speah — 

[WHISTLE) 

Gerald. Oh! (subsides hehind hooh tvith a yawn) 
(whistle at tube, Martin" enters R.) 
^ Martin, (at tube) Well, what is it? Yes, he 
lives here — who are you ? I'll show you if it is none 
of my business — you'll keep down stairs, till you tell 
me your name — Mr. Holmes is a very busy man, 
he's not seeing every trash that comes along, (two 
loud whistles up the tube) 

(David puts his hands to his ears.) (Martin goes 

to desk.) 

(WHISTLE) 

Martin, (up l., through tube) What name — 
what ! (in comic despair) Oh ! — Mr. David — it's 
Miss Clemantina? 

David, (starting up) Miss Clemantina — I can't 
stand her. (hastily put couple of books in your 
pocket) I'm going on the balcony, call me when 
she's gone, (rushes up hastily as Miss Clemantina 
bounces into room, L. ascends ladder at bookcase c. 
out window to the roof) 

Clem, (sharply) Who was it abusing me down 
that tube? 

Martin, (r., stuttering) Miss Clemantina — I 
had no idea — 

Clem. (c. Int.) Oh — it's you, Martin — of course 
— you wouldn't have an idea. 



18 A BACHELOR'S ROMANCE 

Maktix. I've held on to one idea for a long time 
— Miss Clemantina, but 1 couldn't succeed in get- 
ting you to share with me. 

Clem, (c.^ tossing her head) Don't be a fool — 
Martin — that's twenty years ago. (loolcing at him) 
What a sight you are — you've got a crawled inside, 
shrunken-up kind of look. 

Gerald, {coming down l.) How do — Miss Clem- 
antina — 

Clem. Well — I declare — if it isn't Gerald. 

Gerald, (l.) It's a long time — let me see how 
many years — 

Clem, (sharply) Not so long, but I can remem- 
ber a very bad boy. I hope — growing-up has made 
you better. 

Gerald. No — Miss Clemantina. 

Clem. You were always a pasty-faced-cake-eat- 
ing-law-breaking young fiend. 

Gerald. I am still — I've broken every law I 
know of — and the cake's all eaten — 

Clem. Humph! Where's Mr. Holmes? 

Gerald. He's out. 

Clem. Whose long legs were scrambling up into 
that roof just now? 

Martix. Mr. David's a very busy man — he is — 

Clem, (c, hit.) I've come a long way — and my 
business is important — I'll sit here till he comes 
down, (a sneeze outside c.) There. He's sneezing. 
He'll catch his death of cold — up there. Call him. 
(Gerald goes up laughi^ig, stands at fireplace L.) 

Martin. Miss Clemantina, — I — 

Clem. Call him. (x to l. c.) 

Martin-. Mr. David — {2d time at foot of steps) 

David, (c, putting his head over, coming dotvn 
the ladder, haclc to audience) I suppose she gave 
me a great raking over the coals — for not spending 
my Sundays with her — her rasping voice always 



A BACHELOR'S ROMANCE 19 

goes through me. (MAPiTix, during the following, 
tries to paniomime to convey to David the knowl- 
edge of Miss Clemantina's presence) (David 
crosses to his desk) That woman's a (looks up and 
sees Miss Clemantixa; drops into a chair) 

Clem. Good evening, Mr. Holmes. I've had the 
pleasure of hearing your opinion of me. 

David, {grimly) The unadorned truth is a good 
thing now and then, that is if people are sensible 
enough to benefit by it. All the same I was coming 
to pay you a visit next Sunday. Martin was going 
to see to that — wasn't you Martin? 

Martin, {head doivn, looking under his eyes at 
Miss Clem.) I was going to try, sir. 

David, {iri a concilatory tone) HoVs the child 
— I hope she's well— you'll excuse me if I go on 
writing, I'm a very busy man — I suppose you've 
brought your sewing. 

Clem, (c.) Mr. Holmes — you talk — as if you'd 
seen me yesterday — do you know how long it is ? 

David, {uneasily) It's a little while longer than 
it should be perhaps — you get the quarterly allow- 
ance of course, and the toys — for the child. 

Clem. Yes — and they are all piled up in the gar- 
ret, she has no longer any use for them. 

David. Too bad — grown out of toys evidently, 
what would she like now? 

Clem. I'll tell you what I'd like, Mr. David, 
I'd like you to take her off my hands. (David drops 
pen, looks helplessly at Miss Clemantina) 

Clem, {over desk) She's unruly, disobedient, 
disrespectful, and worse than all — she argues with 
me — about things, {goes towards c.) 

David. I might suggest a good training school, 
or a private Kindergarten. 

Clem. Kindergarten — the girl's turned seven- 
teen — she's a woman. 



20 A BACHELOR'S ROMANCE 

David. A what? 

Clem. A young woman with a tendency foi 
pleasure — to-night — against my express wish, she 
left my house, to attend some entertainment, accom- 
panied by a young man. 

David, {in solemn wrath) Alone! at night!— 
with a young man — Miss Clemantina ! — how — could 
you ? 

Gerald, (aside) Oh ! Awful. 

Clem. There. I knew you'd blame me. 

David. No. No. I am the one to blame. I 
haven't done the right thing. It's on my conscience 
— what can I do to make things right? 

Clem. Take charge of her yourself. 

David, {liorror-stricl'en) I — my dear woman — 
what in the world — could I do with her? (in an 
injured manner) It's not fair, Clemantina — I gave 
a sweet innocent babe into your arms, you ])ring me 
back — an undisciplined, young woman. 

Clem, {blazing vj)) I can't help the child grow- 
ing up — can I — can I? 

David, (x. e., m helpless excite ment) I'll get 
my hat and coat, wherever she is — we'll fetch her at 
once, (exit into room R. 3) 

Gerald. (rushing for hat and coat) Yes — 
wherever she is — we'll go and fetch her at once. 

Clem, (c.) She's at a concert — a glee club con- 
cert, among a lot of wild boys. 

Martin, (the truth Irealcing upon him, stam- 
mering and stuttering) A glee — glee — club con- 
cert — (sounds of laughing are heard — enter Syl- 
via and Harold laughing and talJcing) 

Harold, (l. c.) The concert didn't really 
amount to much — but I was amused at seeing you 
enjoy it. 

Sylvia, (l.) I enjoy everything — no matter 
how bad it is. 



A BACHELOR'S ROMANCE 21 

Haeold. Why — Mr. Holmes — (shakes hands 
with Gerald, who comes down between them) Miss 
Sylvia — this is your guardian's brother — Mr. Gerald 
Holmes. 

Sylvia, (l., extending hand) My guardian's 
brother — then what relation is he to me? (Gerald 
and Harold look at each other) 

Gerald, {hcnding over her) Suppose we say— ^ 
er — uncle — 

Sylvia. My uncle — Oh! — ^that's too funny. 

Clem. SYLVIA ! 

Harold, (r. c.) {putting himself between Miss 
Clem, and Sylvia) (very sweetly to Miss Clem.) 
I hope you won't be angry at Miss Sylvia — it's only 
half-past nine — we left early in order to catch you, 
and if you'll allow me — I shall take great pleasure 
in escorting you both home — 

Clem. You're too kind — sir — too kind. 

Harold, (c, sweetly) I can't help that — it's 
my natural disposition — my dear Miss Clemantina 
— it don't do to be too strict with girls — in these 
days. ISTow in your time — half a century ago — ■ 

Clem. SIE — (sweeps past him) 

Harold, (c.) What have I said? 

(Sylvia seated on sofa c. roaring with laughter, as 
David, who enters, on the fly, with umbrella, 
coat and hat — to c, starts hack, at seeing Syl- 
via and two young men) 

Sylvia, (laughing, crossing to David) How 
do — Guardy — 

(David starts back) 

Clem. Y^our ward— Mr. Holmes — 

David. My — my what? 

Sylvia. (innocently looking up in his face) 
Your ward — (puts her cheek up, ivhich after a 
pause, he pecks at in a frightened way) I received 



22 A BACHELOR'S KOJVUNCE 

all Martin's nice, funny letters, and the hobby horse 
he sent me last Christmas—was beautiful. 

Hakold and Gerald. HOBBY HORSE' Ha 
ha, ha! * ' 

David. Martin— you're a fool. 

Martin. Yes, sir. 

Harold. Mr. Holmes, good evening— 1 had no 
Idea — Sylvia was your ward — 

David. It's a great shock to me, Harold— I— 
you — understand. 

Harold, (r. c.) Yes, I understand— you'd for- 
gotten about her— perfectly natural for such- a busv 
man. -^ 

Gerald, (r. of desk r.) You luck-y dog— David— 
David. Don't Gerald. 

Harold, (l. of David, laugUng) He wants us 
to go. 

Gerald. Have it out with the old girl— and— 
you can always depend upon me to look after the 
young one— (goes round to l. c, exit) 

Harold, (to Sylvia) You're in for it— 

Sylvia, (c.) I'll get out of it. 

Martix. (r.) It's the little author— sir 

David (/o Martin r.) She was too much for 
ns; she did us completely, (chuckled, and watches 
feYLViA like a strange animal) 

Sylvia, (sweetly) Miss Clemantina— I can't 
bear you to be angry with me. 

Clem, (pushes Sylvia) Go away. 
i,?i^^^V., ^^' ^'-^ Clemantina, don't punish the 
child. It s not her fault— it's mine. Sylvia, this 
time, Miss Clemantina will overlook your disobe- 
dience, and you'll go home with her, and things 
will go on just the same as before. 

Sylvia, (r. c.) (disappointedly) Go home— 
David, (a little sharply) Certainly— wh pre else 
you want me to go home with Miss Clemantina. 



A BACHELOR'S ROI^IANCE 23 

can you go at this late hour, everyone goes home, 
it's the only place to go. {consulting his time table, 
on L. desk R.) 

Martin. Last train for Brookfield — 10:30. 

David. 10 :30. 

Clp^maxtixa. (l., softening) I'm fond of the 
child, if she'll beg my pardon, for being disobedient. 

Sylvia. I was not disobedient, my guardian gave 
me permission to go with Mr. Eeynolds. 

Clem. He gave you what ? 

David. My dear Miss Clemantina — 

Clem. Did you give her permission? Or did 
you not? 

David. I certainly did 1— 

Clem. That settles it — I deliver her safe and 
sound and — in good physical condition to you. Good 
evening. 

DaviDo {clutching her in despair) Clemantina — 
don't leave me like this — 

Clem. Martin — walk behind me to the cars. 

Maetin. {luith a start) Yes — yes — Miss Clem- 
antina — {xing l.) 

David, {clutching Martin) You're not going to 
leave me here with — 

Clem. Mr. Holmes — when you have sufficiently re- 
alized the gigantic task of looking after a very young 
woman, who likes pleasure, you may appreciate my 
feelings, {half hysterically) You'll see — you'll see. 
Martin, come along, {she exits followed by Martin 
R. 2 e.) 

Sylvia, (r. of David, sits demurely hands folded) 
She don't mean a word, she's too fond of me, but 
it's best for us to part for a little while. 
(David stands in door l., ivatcliing her, as she sloio- 
ly removes her hat and gloves, also cape. David 
comes down, clears his throat — Sylvia wh tell- 
ing him slyly under her eyes) 



24 A BACHELOR'S RO^L\XCE 

Sylvia. Miss Clem, has washed her hands of me, 
and I shall stay with you. I consider it my duty to 
repay what you have done for me. 

David, (r. c.) My dear child, you don't realize 
— I couldn't have you here. It wouldn't do. 

Sylvia, (r. c.) (luith quivering lips) You don't 
want me. 

David. It's not a question of wishes — it's — 

Sylvia. My rightful place is here. You're my 
guardian. My father left me to you. 

David. Yes, but but not here, (aside) I 

can't tell this child, but — (takes her hat, hands it 
to her) Here — (Sylvia takes hat) 

David. Put it on I 
(Sylvia puts on hat, David haiids her gloves and 
puts on her lurap wrong side out. Sylvia half 
crying, half laughing) 

David, (ad lib.) I — I've turned it upside down 
— I mean wrong side out. (awkwardly takes it off) 
Now I'll take you back to Miss Clcmantina. 

Sylvia, (hopelessly) Back to Miss Clemantina. 

David. I hope you don't feel that I am neglect- 
ing you or trying to put you off on anybody else, 
I — loved your father. His loss made my life very 
dreary, for years, I — I'll come to see you every Sun- 
day, and look after your mental development. Every 
Sunday, (looks at watch, X'es to door, Sylvia fol- 
lowing reluctantly, looking around room) 

Sylvia. Father had a room like this, I can just 
dimly remember it, I used to say when I grew up, I 
should make his tea for him. You never read the 
letter my father wrote to me — before he died. I 
was only a little tot then — and I couldn't under- 
stand much. I always carry it next to my heart. 
"Would you like to read it? (takes letter out of her 



A BACHELOR'S RO^L\NCE 25 

bosom Jcisses it) It's nearly worn away with my 
kisses. 

David, (aside) Poor little waif, (takes letter in 
his hand, loohs at it) 

Sylvia, (edging up to him) Eead it out loud — 
will you? 

David, (opens letter, reads) ^^My dear little 
daughter: I am going to leave you forever. My 
heart has been very heavy, but I feel comforted now 
because my dear, faithful David has been with me 
all day." (David affected) I am not leaving you 
alone — dear. He will take care of you. Nestle 
close to him and grow into his heart, as you have 
grown into mine. "^'My Precious — Goodbye.'' Poor 
Henry — poor fellow, (breaks down) (Sylvia wipes 
her eyes) I — I never had much experience with 
children, I though all they needed — was fresh air, 
and exercise, and I forgot the time, and that you 
were grown up, and — affection — and — I'm very sorry 
— I'll try to make it up — (Sylvia reels — han.d to 
her head) 

Sylvia, (e. c.) Oh! Everything's going round. 
— I was so excited — I^I didn't eat any supper. 

David. Lie down, on the sofa — there's some of 
my supper left, fortunately. 

Sylvia, (faintlij) Thank you — (David out R. 
2 E. with lamp) (drops on sofa — lays her head down 
with a sigh) Oh! My head. I'm so tired, (laughs 
faintly. Enter David tvith plate of food) How 
funny — it all is. You're not a bit old, and your 
face lights up so, when you smile. You're coming 
every Sunday. That's something, and perhaps when 
you're old and can't use your eyes, you^ll let me 
copy for you and — 

David. Here's a nice piece of chicken for you. 

Sylvia (drowsily) Thank you, but I'm too tired 
to eat. (drops asleep) 



26 A BACHELOR'S ROMANCE 

Maktin. (enters r. s. e.) Mr. David! 

David. Hush! Hush! She's asleep, [looks at 
watch) The ten-thirty train has gone, (in a ivhis- 
per) Go down and tell the janitress to look after 
the young lady, in my room — Go and find quarters 
for the night, somewhere — Hush! (push Martin 
out L. 3 E.) 

(LIGHTS DOWN) 

(David quietly lakes a small leather hag, from 
underneath table, throws in hook, puts them in 
lag, goes to mantelpiece. Takes pipe and to- 
bacco — takes out coat and umhrella, X's to 
door, comes hack, turns down reading lamp on 
desk — moon streams in iy)om over Sylvia, he 
comes to door — comes hack again — takes jnllow 
which has dropped on floor, puts it under her 
head, draws rug over her, tucks it in softly, 
X's to door Jj., stands looking after her, then 



softly exits.) 



CTTRTAIX 



ACT II 

TIME.— r/? 6 following evening. Helen le Grand's 

home — Murray Hill. 
SCENE. — A turkish smoking room to practical hall 

c, dining-room R. 3. All lights up. Bunches 

strong R. and L. a?id R. u. e. Music on stage 

R. u. E. 

AT RISE. — Harold enters c. from l., followed hy 
Flunkey, soft strains of music are heard, and 
the sound of voices and clinking of glasses. 

Harold, (to Flunkey) Still at dinner? 



A BACHELOR'S ROMANCE 27 

Flunkey, (with grand air) It's nearly over — sir 
— be seated, and I'll announce you to Mrs. Le Grand. 
(exits in dining-room R. 3.) (Harold comes down 
and seats himself on divan L.) 

Helen, {enters r. 3. Harold rises) (Helen in 
handsome dinner gown, with outstretched hand) 
My dear Harold, I'm delighted to see you. 

Harold, (l. c.) Am I disturbing your dinner 
party ? 

Helen. Oh, not at all — and it's not a 
dinner party, only four of us. I'll let you into a 
secret, — I'm trying to get Gerald married. 

Harold. And the lady in question is Miss Lei- 
cester. 

Helen, (up and flitting about) Harriet is just 
the wife for Gerald. She is wide awake to his faults, 
and really — cares for him. I am hoping to-night 
will clinch matters. I do love to marry people off. 
Spiteful of me, isn't it? Considering what a failure 
I made of it myself. My couple is getting on fa- 
mously and Mr. Savage, poor fellow is discreetly ad- 
miring the pictures. 

Harold, {rising, quickly) Who? 

Helen, {innocently) Mr. Sjavage — a very dear 
friend of mine. 

Harold, {eyeing her suspiciously X'ing L. 1.) 
That's strange — he and I are room mates — ^you've 
known him a long time, then? 

Helen, {demurely) Since yesterday — he's going 
to give me a course in literature. Hush! — here he 
is — {as Savage enters in full dress, with evident 
attempt at adornment. He comes down r.) 

Harold, (l.) Savage a professor — ha! ha — he 
couldn't teach anything — if he died for it. He's 
clever, undeniably so — ^but he's not standard litera- 
ture. 

Savage, {annoyed) 



28 A BACHELOR'S ROMANCE 

Helen, (to Savage) Don't mind him— I have 
perfect confidence in you, Mr. Savage—perfect. 
(Helen exits in dining room, Jaughing) (Bm) 

Harold, (l. of him) You sly dog. 

Savage, {turning toward c.) You beggar— 

Harold. To put on my dress suit— 

Savage. Our dress suit. 

Harold. And steal out — 

Savage. It was my turn— you went to a concert 
last night. That silk handkerchief goes with the 
suit— {snatches it from Harold's hreast-coat 
pocket, and Savage returns him a linen handker- 
chief, crumpled up) , n i 

Harold, {disgustedly) Phew ! Your pipe s rolled 
up in it as usual, {shakes handkerchief, pipe falls 
out. Savage picks it up guiltily, and puts it in his 
pocket) I wish you'd break yourself of the beastly 
habit of putting your— a lighted pipe in your pocket 
you burnt a hole clear through this second best — 
{bus) If you're going to take to society— we'll be 
threadbare in no time — Good Heavens! {catching 
at the lapels of Savage's coat) What's that? 

Savage, {very guiltily) I think it's the soup or 
the ice-cream — 

Harold, (l. c.) Savage, for my sake, for your 
mother's sake, stop eating in these clothes. 

Savage, (r. c.) It's only grease— an iron over 
brown paper — will take it out. 

Harold, (x. l.) It won't take me out — to Mrs. 
Cornwaller's— at home— at 10 :30 to-night. 

Savage. Yes it will. (Savage turn to him) I'll 
leave here at 10 sharp. I'll press the grease spot 
and the wrinkles out of this front, and have you 
as neat as wax — {comes to L.) 

Harold, (c.) Thanks— old chap— I'll do as 
much for you. 
{Enter Gerald, Helen and Harriet r. 3 e.) 



A BACHELOR'S ROMANCE 29 

Harold. Good evening — 
(Helen and Savage down l. together) 

Gerald, (down r.) Ah! — How are you — Eey- 
nolds — Helen — I am longing for a smoke and my 
coffee — your dinner was an awful bore. 

(Harriet on divan r.) 

Helen. {Sees Harriet) Hush! — Sit here Mr. 
Savage — my poor husband's chair, I always miss 
him at this hour, he'd smoke and take his coffee, 
and then he'd go off into a good — long sleep for the 
rest of the evening. 

(Savage sits on armchair l.) 

Gerald, (r. c.) A decent fellow — my brother- 
in-law — Enormously rich — but — between you and 
me — Helen was a duced sight too good for him — 

Harriet, (r.) Most women are too good for the 
men they marry. 

Gerald, (r. c.) How is it women always find 
that out after they are married? 

Helen, (x'ing to c, Harriet rises and meets 
her c.) They know it before — and imagine they can 
reform their husband, but they can't, (enter Flun- 
key R. u. e., passes around coffee — and cigarettes) 
(aside to Harriet) Well? 

Harriet, (on sofa l.) (l. c.) If I were you, 
I would not make sueli obvious efforts to leave me 
alone with Gerald — he doesn't like it, and I — I get 
rather disgusted with myself, (x bach r and sits) 

Helen. Xonsense — (x oach l. and sinTcs on 
divan l.) 

Gerald, (dotvn r.) Mr. Savage, what will be 
the next fashion in Literature ? Realism is dying — 
is going out — 

Savage. Ruralism — will be the next fad (drinl:- 



30 A BACHELOR'S ROMANCE 

ing liis coffer) The fact is we arc surfeited with 
everything. 

Harold, (c. on ottoman — ) Hes eaten too much 
dinner. 

Savage, (l.) The next successful literary work 
will resound with the rippling of brooks, and the 
babble of simple country folk. Society will take it 
up, because society is worn out and must go back 
to nature — for renewed strength. 

Gerald. Talking of ruralism — Ah ! — Sylvia — 
(throws a hiss in the air) 

Harriet, (on divan l.) Sylvia! (?ooA:s a/ Helen 
R.^ who nods enthusiasticaUy) 

Gerald. David's ward — she's a rural maiden — 
and quaint enough to have been painted by an old 
master. 

Harriet, (on divan l.) Handsome? 

Harold. Sweet — fresh as an opening rose. 

Gerald, (r. c. Ifeside her) And as refreshingly 
transparent as a dew-drop. 

Harriet, (r., restless and jealous) Good style? 

Gerald. None — whatever. 

Harold, (c.) She is natural. 

Harriet, (r.) Stupid, of course? 

Gerald, (r. c.) Not world- wise — like you and 
me. 

Harold. She has everything before her. 

Helen, (lying lack on couch) Fortunate child 
— I've exhausted everything. (Savage heside her 
hus.) 

David, (outside l. u. e.) That's all right— my 
man, I know my way up. (etiter David excitedly 
hat bach of his head, comes down excitedly, crosses 
to Harriet r. and without loohing at her, hen.ds 
over her and hisses her) My dear Helen — : (leans 
over as if to hiss her) 



A BACHELOR'S ROMANCE 31 

Gerald. (laughing) David — this is Miss Lei- 
cester — 

David, (hoiving in an old-fashioned ivay) I'm 
afraid I kissed you — 

Harriet, (rises to him) (extending her hand — • 
laughing x. R.) You did — but I don't mind. 

David, (takes her hands, pats it for a moment, 
looks earnestly at her, then drops it) Poor child! 
(absent mindedly) Ah! Savage — have you succeeded 
in interesting my sister? (Savage laughs) Helen — 
I want to see you about Sylvia, (comes down to 
Helen l. c.) 

Helen. Sylvia! — (Savage left behind divan — • 
Gerald, Harriet r.) 

David, (r. c.) Miss Clemantina wouldn't take 
her home — 

Harold. Oh! (x. l.) 

David. I gave her my rooms — last niglit, and 
sought shelter elsewhere. 

Helen, (l. c.) David! Where did you sleep?-— 

David, (r. c.) I didn't sleep — I sat up in Mr. 
Mulberry's vacant chair, during the hours that he 
occupied his cot. 

Gerald, (r., breaking out) Ha — ha — ha. 

David, (looks at him solemnly) I was very much 
worried all day, and as night was falling fast, I 
didn't really know what to do — Martin suggested 
that I should hi'ing her here, (apologetically with a 
side glance at Hiclen) She's following on with 
Martin. (Helen very much amused, and trying to 
restrain Gerald^s merriment) 

Harold, (gladly) Sylvia — here. (David goes up 
— Martin very much crushed enter at c.) 

Martin, (up l. in a worried tone) She says — • 
slie won't come up, unless you fetch her. 

David, (apologetically) I find her a very deter- 
mined character, I must go and fetch her. 



32 A BACHELOR'S ROMANCE 

All. Ha! Ha! Ha! . 

David. I don't see anything amusing about it, I 
think it's very sad. I've neglected that child all 
these years— whatever her faults, I am responsible. 
{exit David c. to l.) 

Helen, (x to Gerald r. c.) Gerald— don't laugh 
— I won't have David offended. 

Gerald, (r.) I can't help it Helen— think of 
that young girl walking in, taking possession and 
routing out those old fossils, (exits l.) 

David, {from c.) {re-enters L. c. verij troubled) 
I forgot to say that I have not yet told her— I am 
going to leave her here with you. 

Helen, {on his r. aghast) Leave her here wWh 
me — 

David, (c.) As she seems set in the conviction — 
that it is her duty to remain with me, {laugh) which 
is all very well in theory— but impractical, (Gerald 
laughs) but don't think for a moment, I am trying to 
evade something disagreeable. She's my responsibil- 
ity, and I intend to shoulder her, but if you would 
be willing to take charge of her,— provisionally of 
course — I would be deeply indebted to you. 

Helen, (r. c.) Certainly I will for your sake- 
David. 

David, {heaves a sigh, exits to l.) Thank you. 

Gerald, {to Martin, who stands at entrance) 
Come in— Martin. (Martin enters, stops at en- 
trance) 

Helen. Sit down, Martin, (l. c.) (Martin sits 
on edge of chair by entrance, ttvirlitig his hat) 
Gerald, (r.) Where did you sleep— Martin ? 
Martin, {up c.) I didn't sleep sir, I sat up 
with Mr. David — and talked it over. 

Gerald. Ha! Ha! Ha! 
(Enter David very stiff and siraigld, and severe, 
tvaJl's down, crosses, turns head, and loolcs be- 



A BACHELOR'S ROMANCE 33 

hind, not seeing Sylvia^ goes haclc to enlmnce, 
exits for a moment, comes down, walking stiff 
and straight, lead Sylvia hy the hand very 
frightened and embarrassed) 

David, (c.) Helen — this is Sylvia — {holes for 
Sylvia) 

Sylvia, (who has caught sight of Harold — runs 
to him loith outstretched hands) Oh — Mr. Harold! 

Haeold. {gladly) Sylvia! (Harold and Savage 
stand before Sylyia 1 l. masking her in) 

Sylvia. I'm so frightened — it is all so grand 
here, it takes my breath away, {comes down l. and 
Gerald crosses to her) Oh! Do you live here? 

Gerald, {laughing at her) Yes, I live here. 

David, (c.) Sylvia — this is my sister — Helen. 

Sylvia, {crosses to David) Is it? Isn't she beau- 
tiful? {all laugh) (Sylvia x's to Helen r.) 

Helen, (r.) Thank you, — that was the most 
sincere compliment I have ever received, {draws 
Sylvia to and kisses her) Take off your hat — dear 
and stay. 

Sylvia, {ivaiches David^ ivlio makes a movement 
to go to entrance c. and stops when he sees her look- 
ing) I will, if he will. 

Helen, (r.) Certainly he will. 

{Takes off Sylvia's hat and ivrap, during ivhich 
David turns and looks at Martin, who at en- 
trance, is on the alert, makes a quick movement 
over his shoulder to indicate that David should 
start, and make a rapid exit at once, David 
nods, and goes up towards exit rapidly. Sylvia 
makes a rush after him, just in time to catch 
the end of his coat-tails — disappears in hall, and 
draws him hack) 

Sylvia, {at entrance) "Where are you going? 



34 A BACHELOR'S ROMANCE 

David. Martin reminds me that I have neglected 
my work and I must — 

Sylvia, (interrupting) I'll go with you. 

David. {conciUatingly) Sylvia, my sister has 
kindly consented to take care of you. 

Sylvia, (up r. with David) I don't want to be 
taken care of like a child, I'm too old for that. Miss 
Clementina took care of me long enough, it's time 
I took care of somebody now. 

Harold, (l. 1 over chair, aside) The darling! 

Sylvia. I want to go with you, and make your 
tea, and try to repay you for what you've done for 
me — I won't stay here without you — there! 

David, (trouhled) Sylvia — have you made up 
your mind to that ? 

Sylvia, (firmly) Yes. 

David, (resignedly) Well I suppose that settles 
it. (ireally) Will you stay here — while I go after 
Martin, and give him some instructions? 

Sylvia, (suspiciously) You'll come back. 

David, (up c, reproachfully) 1 give you my 
word — Sylvia. 

Sylvia, (r. c.) (magnanimously) Very well — 
you can go. 

David, (sighs, exits c.) Thank you. 

(Savage x's behind divan to l.) 

ITelex. Sylvia — come here dear — I want to pre- 
sent you to my friend — Miss Leicester. (Sylvia 
drops a quaint curtsey) (Helen talces Sylvia's 
vraps off R.) 

Harriet, (on divan r.) (tales Sylvia in ivith 
lorgnette patronizingly from head to foot) You have 
made a great stir, haven't you. It's a good way to 
set people talking of you. 'You'll be quite a success 
in societ}^ indeed you've succeeded already in turn- 
ing these young men's heads. 



A BACHELOR'S ROMANCE 35 

Sylvia, (looking at her up c.) When a person 
succeeds in anything, they try for it, don't they? I 
haven't — but all the same, I'm very glad they 
like me. (turns to Helen, who puts her arms about 
her) 

Gerald. One for you — Harriet. 

Sylvia, (uneasily) Oughtn't Mr. David to be 
back now? 

Gerald, (xing up L. of Sylvia) He's probably 
gone home to bed, and forgotten all about you. He's 
singularly unlike the rest of us, so old-fogyish. 

Sylvia. I don't think so — if he took as much 
trouble with his clothes, as you do — he'd be better 
looking. 

Harriet, (r. on divan, laughing) One for you — 
Gerald. 

Helen, (r. of Sylvia on divan ivith Harriet 
laughing) Why Sylvia — Gerald is considered very 
good looking in society. (Helen comes to sofa l. 
does not sit) 

Sylvia, (talcing him in) He needs pure air, and 
fresh milk, morning walks, and sleep. 

All. Ha! Ha! Ha! 

Gerald, (half piqued, half amused) Take me in 
hand, will you? I will turn country pumpkin and 
we'll run a model farm together, 

Sylvia. Mr. David won't forget me, he gave me 
his word. 

Harold, (behind divan l.) He always keeps his 
word — Miss Sylvia — but I know he has most impor- 
tant business in hand, about the Prize Contest. 

Sylvia. (xHng to divan to Helen) (l. and sits) 
Harold's trying for it. What would you do if you 
got it, Harold? 

Harold, (bending over her) I'd get married at 
once. Would you speak a good word for me, Sylvia? 

Sylvia, (unconsciously) With all my heart. 



36 A BACHELOR'S ROMANCE 

Helen, (on divan l. to Harold heUnd her) 
There s a pair of naturally mated doves, {to Har- 
old) Don't you children want to dance? 

{MUSIC--^YALTZ) 

{Waltz music r. u. entrance) 

Harold, (l. hehind divan) Do I? Listen to that 
Sylvia. 

{Lively music, waltz refrain— outside—he catches 
hold of her, she runs to entrance R. u., Gerald 
watching Sylvia under cover.) 
Sylvia, {at r. u. entrance) You'll tell me when 
Mr. David comes. 

Helen, (l., smiling) Yes, Harold, {calling to 
Harold— w^/jo is about to exit with Sylvia Har- 
old crosses to her l.— aside) You'd better give me 
the name of your story. 

(Harold hesitates—then lends doion, ivhispers in 
her ear. Exit with Sylvia dancing ad lib. Ger- 
ald folloivs them, stands at entrance icatching 
them, Harriet doivn on conch r., visibly offended, 
watching him. Savage x's to Helen, asks her to 
dance in imnlomime—she x's with Sw^ge to 
R. u.) 

Gerald, {up at r. u. e.) She dances like a fairy. 
How she flings herself about. I'm half inclined to 
try a round with her. 

Helen, {stops at entrance to Gerald— ?Wio is 
watching Sylvia off) Gerald— ask Harriet to dance. 

Gerald, {shrugs his shoulders— crosses down to 
Harriet r.) Do you care to dance? 

Harriet, {on divan r. piqued) You certain) v do 
not. 

^ Gerald, {l. of her teasingly) Oh ]—1 see— yon're 
jealous of our little 'Thillis" in there. 

Harriet. Not of her, because I know she could 



A BACHELOR'S ROMANCE 37 

hold you no longer than scores of others, you have 
been in love with her for a week or two, I do not 
expect much consideration from you, but — you need 
not be unnecessarily brutal, (her voice falters, and 
she drops her head) 

Gerald. My dear old girl — I wouldn't hurt your 
feelings for the world. I think as much of you — 
as it is possible for me to think of anyone. 

Harriet, (r.) Except yourself. 

Gerald, (r. c.) You're mistaken — I have an un- 
limited contempt for myself, I've never done a par- 
ticle of good in my life, but — I haven't harmed any- 
one that I know of — except myself — and if you'll 
take me for better, or worse — it will be worse in this 
case — I'll promise not to starve, or beat you — and — 
to be as good a husband — as I possibly can. 

Harriet, (rising, stands hy divan, r., in a low 
voice — who has been agitated during the above) Do 
you really mean what you say? 

Gerald. Certainly — it's been tacitly understood 
between us, for some years, I believe, (l. of her, 
takes her hands) It would have been better for us 
both, if I had married you then, and not waited 
till the bloom faded from everything — and I'd lived 
it all. 

(STOP MUSIC) 

(Sylvia laughs outside.) 

(His face lights up) What an infectious laugh 
that girl has — (goes to door r. u. and comes down 
R. of Harriet, as Harriet rises x's to l. 1, rings 
bell on table) Well — Harriet — what do you say? 

Harriet, (l., near table, looking at him) I say 
no — I will not — marry you. 

Gerald, (starting bach) Harriet! 

(Enter Flunkey c. from L.) 






38 A BACHELOR'S ROMANCE 

Harriet. You do not care for me enough to 
marry me. You have simply accustomed yourself 
to think — that some day — you should ask me to be 
your wife — there is nothing in it for either of us — 
is nothing. 

(Enter Flunkey with wrap, c. from i.., Gerald 
takes it from him. He exits) 

Gerald, (wrap in hand, eagerly) You don't 
mean it. 

Harriet, (l. after a pause he puis the to rap 
around her) I do mean it — it's unalterable. 
(She slowly exits c. Gerald drops in divan l. 
speechless, his hands in pockets, as Helen en- 
ters R. u. E.) 

Helen, (coming doivn c.) Where's Harriet? 

Gerald, (l. on divan l.) Gone. 

Helen, (c.) What! — she has not — 

Gerald. Refused me — yes. 

Helen. I suppose you asked her in such an in- 
different manner, no self-respecting girl could accept 
you. Gerald — you ought to be ashamed of yourself 
— you— 

(MUS1C-'\YALTZ) 

Gerald, (rising, int.) See, here, Helen, you'd 
better stop trying to marry me off, if you put me in 
for any more matrimonial dinners — I shall do as 
David does — take refuge on the roof — I'll — I'll go 
and ask Sylvia to dance with me. (x's up) 

Helen, (on divan l.) Oh, dear, — this is most 
annoying. I hope, Gerald, you are not going to make 
a fool of yourself over Sylvia. (Gerald exits laugh- 
ing) (Enter David c. and l. very excitedly — watch in 
hand, no hat) (down c.) Where's Sylvia— don't tell 
me she's run away again. 

Helen, (laughing) No, she's dancing. 

David, (c.) (with a reproachful look) I've al- 



A BACHELOR'S ROMANCE 39 

ways condemned dancing as an idiotic gyration of 
the body, (x to R. u. e.) {looks ojf) Sylvia makes 
it an art — that's a very pretty dance, (bus) 

Helen, {down l. luatching Mm) She's led you 
a pretty dance, my poor brother. 

{MUSIC SWELLS) 

David, {still at entrance, lost in admiring con- 
tcjiiplation of Sylvia, laugJiing to himself now and 
then, and thoroughly enjoying himself) 

Helen. David! David! David! 

David, {starting) Yes, yes — {cross to her l,) 

Helen. Sylvia's a great care to you — Isn't she? 

{STOP MUSIC) 

David, {ivith a sigh) The child's on my con- 
science. My work absorl3s my life. 

Helen. The only way to assure her future — is 
to have her well married. 

David. Married ! 

Helen. I'll introduce her formally at the Patri- 
arch's ball, when I get her properly dressed — I 
think she'll make a sensation. 

David, {after pause) I can't think of anyone, 
most of my acquaintances are poverty stricken. 

Helen. I know one — Harold. 

David, {sitting on divan e. dejectedly) Harold — 
Harold — there is nothing to be said against him. 
(r.) {hrightening) Except his poverty — he couldn't 
marry on his slender salary, he's out of the question. 

Helen. Oh, you can arrange all that — give him 
the 10,000 dollar prize. 

David, (e.) What? 

Helen, (c.) He's written a story — 

David, {int.) Stop! — I don't want to know. 
{rising) 

Helen. It's . called "A BACHELOR'S EO- 
MANGE," 



40 A BACHELOR'S ROMANCE 

David, (standing over her in desperate anger) 
Wretched woman — what have you done? 

Helen, (in comic disinay) Oh — dear — anything 
very dreadful? 

David, {pacing up and down) You've lost him 
the prize. 

Helen. It's a good story then — eh? 

David, (r. c.) Yes, the best. 

Helen. Oh — what luck for him — you'll give him 
the prize. 

David. No — your indiscretion, and my friendship 
for the author, puts me in a most delicate dilemma. 

Helen. Why ? 

David. I must now leave the decision to others, 
who are unbiased. I shall resign my position at 
once. 

Helen, {angrily) David — Y^ou are carrying 
conscientiousness to a ridiculous extreme. His story 
is the best, you've said so — you must give him the 
prize. 

David, (c. angrily) I'll do nothing of the kind. 
I won't have my affairs interfered with, I don't see 
why you should meddle and muddle, and tangle 
things up in this way. 

Helen. David — you are the most obstinate, self- 
willed, simple — {x's k., come x's E.) 

David, (c, loftily, int.) Helen — losing your tem- 
per only makes things more complicated — 

Helen. Oh! Very well — serves me right, for 
trying to rid you of a burden — ISTow — ^j^ou'll have 
Sylvia back on your hands, {hack to ii. c.) 

David, (c.) I couldn't have anything better on 
my hands — could — I? I don't see why you should 
consider a burden of people. I don't see why she 
must marry. I can take care of her, as long as she 
lives — I'm only too glad — to take care of her, as 



A BACHELOR'S ROMANCE 41 

long as she lives — you are a foolish, ignorant, incon- 
sistent woman — {x's to l. c.) 

Helen, (int.) David— losing your temper— only 
makes matters more complicated. 

David, {.sinks hacJc in chair l.) That's what Miss 
Clemantina did — washed her hands of the whole affair. 
It's remarkable how little women understand of their 
own sex. I've never made a study of women — but if 
1 put my mind to it, I think I could manage Sylvia. 
It requires a little patience, and a large quantity of 
diplomacy. 

Helen. Settle the question with the girl your- 
self. I wash my hands of the whole affair, (exit) 

Sylvia, {enters e. u. e., archway) Oh, here you 
are. I knew you would come back. 

David, {in a conciliatory manner) I've brought 
you some books. {Takes hooks out of every pocket) 

Sylvia, {makes an impulsive rush at him) Oh — 
you darling — 

(David keeps her at arm's length, putting the hooks 
in her han.ds, retires as far from her as possi- 
hle. Be sits on arm-chair L, 1 watching her — 
a little on the defensive and very reflectively) 

Sylvia, {sits on sofa l. opening hooks) Macau- 
lay, {throws hook down on table l. c. with a grim- 
ace) History of Greece, {puts her nose in the air) 
Oliver Wendell Holmes— ''Over the Teacups." {hugs 
the hook impulsively) I love him — he's a funny, old 
dear — like you. Just read this {crosses to him, sits 
on the arm of his chair, leans over him. David 
suddenly starts up, dropping Sylvia into chair — 
crosses to sofa R. Sylvia laughing to herself over 
hook) 

David, {crossing to down k.) {watching her re- 
flectively) Sylvia, would you like to live here? 



42 A BACHELOR'S EOMANCE 

Sylvia, {throws down hook) Well! If j^ou want 
the truth — no, I wouldn't. 

David, (drops) Oh! (sits on settee r.) 

Sylvia, (l.) It don't seem real. If I stayed 
here, I couldn't be just Sylvia. I'd have to put on 
like the rest, and I promised my father — I'd always 
be honest and truthful and sincere — 

David, (aside) Sylvia, this is the world — ^you 
have felt at once what most others learn with bitter 
heartache, and disappointment. Like you — I found it 
out in time and left it — to be my own natural self, 
and live my life — the best — not the worst way. Sylvia 
— (in rather a faint voice) Would you like to go back 
to Miss Clemantina? 

(Sylvia loohs at him in mnte reproach — starts io 
cry) 

David, (rises and comes c, in an agony of pain) 
Don't cry — please don't — I didn't mean it — I'm only 
trying to get at what you — would like. 

Sylvia, (hrightening up) I'd like to keep house 
for you — (David recoils) Well for — somebody — I'd 
like to live cosy and quiet — with a few friends — and 
books — and — and — things. 

David. A few friends, and books and things — 
can be easily managed. But the somebody — you'd 
like to keep house for — takes a little time. Oh ! 
Don't worry, Helen is going to decorate you with 
feathers, and war paint, and take you to the Pa- 
triarch's Ball next week — no doubt — you'll find a 
husband there. 

Sylvia. Mr. David — suppose you leave the mat- 
rimonial part of the business in my hands — I'll at- 
tend to that — myself. 

David, (relieved) Will you? That's very good 
of you. 

Sylvia. I'll go and be decorated with feathers, 
and war-paint, if you will go with me — 



A BACHELOR'S ROMANCE 43 

David. My dear cliild — I — 

Sylvia. It's time you came out— 

David. I wouldn't know how to act if I came out. 

Sylvia. (ivorUng herself up) They'll say— who 
is she? Who does she belong to? Where's her 
father, or Uncle, or guardian? You'll do the pro- 
per thing, won't you? I'll come in on your arm, 
and dance the first dance with you. 

David. David Holmes— dancing at an evening 
party— what a cartoon for the comic papers. But 
I'm past dancing. 

Sylvia. No— you're not— try— don t be atraid, 
I'll lead you. Now put your arm around me. 
(David puis left arm out awlwardly) 

Sylvia. No— the right arm. {puts it around 
her waist) 

David. I— I've forgotten how— it's so long ago. 

Sylvia. I'll teach you— it's as easy as can be, 
see now, watch my feet, {rises her skirts daintily 
with her two hands, and steps out with one foot) 
(David looks at feet, then quickly turns his head 
away) 

Sylvia {dancing) One, two, three— see— how 
easy it is. Why— you're not looking. 

David, {has the hack of his head turned to her) 
I did look — once. 

Sylvia, {dancing) You can't learn by looking 
once— watch how I do it. One two— one two— one two. 
{bus. of stepping out in dance) 

David, {watches her flit about, his face beaming 
with delight) {quoting to himself) "Her little feet 
stole in and out, like mice— from underneath her 
petticoat.^' 

{WALTZ MUSIC outside) 

Sylvia. There, now — you'll look at the world 
from another side, just for one night. It's frivolous. 



44 A BACHELOK'S ROMANCE 

but it's beautiful, and when you're dancing with 
somebody you like, and the music plays and the odor 
of the flowers, and everybody is happy and laughing, 
and you go round and round — And — you'll dance 
the first dance with me. 

David, (recklessly) The first, last, every one. 
How does it go ? One two — one two — one two. (dance 
ad lib.) 

(Sylvia, laughing and clapping her hands) 

(Enter Helex, Gebald and Savage, tvho stand in 
astonishment, looking at David pirouetting 
round and round.) 

Helen. David ! What are you doing ? 
David, (with a smile) I'm practicing my one, 
two's. I'm going to the ball with Sylvia. 

CURTAIN, (all laughing) 



ACT III 



SCENE. — A month later. David's Study. The same 
as Act I. The ''Night of the Ball." 

DISCOVERED. — Martin who stands surveying 
David's desk, tvhich is in, great disorder, scat- 
tered among the hooks and papers are dijferent 
toilette articles, silver hand-glass, gentlemen's 
white kid gloves, a silk handkerchie,f, an atom- 
izer, etc. A guitar stands against foot of hook- 
case K. The reading light on David's table is 
out, and the room is brilliantly lit by side brack- 
ets. The door to staircase is open. Enier 
Savage. 

(Candle on desk l.) 

Martin, (l. of desk r. shaking his head dole- 



A BACHELOR'S ROMANCE 45 

fully) Never since Mr. David forsook his fathers 
roof, and took up housekeeping, have I seen his desk 
in such a state. 

Savage, (enters l. peering over Martin's shoul- 
der) Anything the matter, Martin? 

Martin", (ivithout looking round) Matter — that's 
it — too much accumulated matter — letters unan- 
swered — books unreviewed — next week's Editorial 
unwritten, and — he's dressing for a Ball. 

Savage. It's not a regulation ball — it's a dance 
given by a few prominent bachelors — in return for 
the hospitality extended to them by their lady friends 
during the winter. See I've got a card — {show 
card) sent by a pupil — Mrs. Le Grand — at 10 :30 — 
I can't go till 12 :30 — Harold's invited — so we divide 
the evening up — (going c.) 

Martin. 12 :30 — oh — I forgot, your wardrobe's 
a joint stock company. 

Savage, (up c.) I shall buy him out — Martin. 
He's growing too stout — I begin to feel baggy at 
the knees and elbows. 

David, (singing in next room r.) 

*'0f all the girls that are so smart" 
^There's none like pretty Sally^' 
"She's the darling of my heart" 
"And she lives in our ally." 

Savage. Who's that ? 

Martin, (r. at desk, solemnly) Mr. David. 

Savage. Ha, ha^ ha! 

David, (singing outside) 

"There's no lady in the land" 
"Is half so sweet as Sally-ee — ee 
(Sivells 011 the last note) 

(Savage looks at Martin — Martin looks at Sav- 
age) 

Savage, (c.) What's her name, Martin? 

Martin. Her?— Who? 



46 A BACHELOR'S ROMANCE 

Savage. The woman he's in love with. 

Martin. Oh, don't say that Mr. Savage — don't 
say such a terrible calamity is going to fall upon us. 
{comes to l.) 

Savage, {at table R. laugMng) {looks at papers 
oi\ desk R.) This looks suspicious — Monday — con- 
cert with Sylvia, Tuesday, shopping with Sylvia — 
Wednesday, lecture with Sylvia — Thursday, Bachel- 
or's Ball with Sylvia. Her name is Sylvia — he calls 
her Sally for short. 

Martin. There's a letter from the office — marked 
immediate — ^been lying on his desk since morning — 
do you think I can get him to open it — He says, 
"presently, — Martin — presently," and he skips about 
— practising steps for the ball, {hus.) 

Savage, {laughing r.) And it's all for the sake 
of Sylvia. 

Martin. ( l. c.) Never — since the day he for- 
sook his father's roof, and we took up housekeeping 
in one room — has he been in love. 

Savage, (r. c.) Lucky man — he's just come in 
on the home stretch. 

David, {entering singing L.) "She's the darling 
of my heart" "And she lives in our ally" {in a very 
light, debonair manner, he has on a handsome dress- 
ing gown, patent leather shoes, hair ivell dressed, 
just from tlie hands of the barber, without eye glass- 
es, his ivhole appearance well cared for, in contrast 
to previous acts, (r.) {lightly) Hello Savage — 
how are you — my boy? 

Savage, (c.) As usual, Mr. Holmes — plenty of 
health — but very little money. You seem in remark- 
ably good spirits sir. 

David, (r.) Why not, I've had a very gay win- 
ter, and tonight is the last flicker of the midnight 
lamp, — before it goes out — for the season. You've 
seen my ward — of course — I've had a miniature of 



A BACHELOR'S ROMANCE 47 

her painted on ivory, {takes a small photograph 
case out of pocket.) 

Savage. Sweet face — Mr. Holmes — very. 

David, (r.) She's a favorite wherever she goes — 
she looks on me as her only relative — and insists on 
having me escort her everywhere. 

Martin, (l. eyeing David disapprovingly) What 
time will you be at home, sir? 

David, (singing ad lib.) ^'1 won't be home till 
morning — " 

Savage, (looking at Martin, aside on sofa c.) I 
won't be there till morning — 

Martin. And what's to become of all this work — - 
that's been lying about for a week. 

David. The light literature is accumulating in 
a most appalling manner, (to Savage) Just run 
through them, will you? 

Martin, (horrified) Run through them? 

Savage, (down to l. of desk r.) (picking up 
hooks eagerly) Thank you Mr. Holmes — thank you 
very much. 

David, (to Savage) Write something of a no- 
tice, and take it direct to the office. See the Editor 
— -tell him it is to take the place this week — of my 
critical review — er — er — and sign it — sign it "Sav- 
age.'' 

Savage, (stands in front of Martin's desk, arms 
full of hooks. His face a study of delighted surprise, 
drops the hooks on desk.) Sign it — at last. I shall 
write my o\vn name — too generous of you — It's too 
generous of you Mr. Holmes, (sits doivn L. of desk 
— quickly hegins to devour the hooks, making notes 
from time to time in a husiness-like way on a piece 
of paper) (lights pipe) 

David, (to r. c.) Don't speak of it. (spraying 
his handkerchief tuith cologne) Martin. 

Martin. Yes sir. 



48 A BACHELOR'S ROMANCE 

David, (sternly) Look me straight in the eye. 

Martin, (aside) What have I done now? 

David. If you happened to meet me accidentally in 
the street, and did not know me — how young — would 
you take me to be? 

Martin. If I did not know you — I probably 
wouldn't give it a thought. 

David, (impatienthj) Then say — you know me, 
and meet me in the street accidentally? How young 
would you take me to be? 

Martin. If I knew you sir — I would in all prob- 
ability know your age, and there would be no occa- 
sion for thought in the matter. 

David, (disgustedly) Martin, you're out of date 
you don't circulate — you're on the shelf for good — 
get out. (takes a ivatcli and fob chain from pocl-et 
and slings it lightly into his vest pocket) "She's 
the darling of my heart" (exit humming R. d.) 

Martin. Mr. Savage, he's mad. 

Savage. He is mad, Martin, with love, it's a 
delicious madness, an ecstatic madness — I'm suffer- 
ing from a chronic case of it myself. 

(Martin shakes his head dolefully, crosses to Dav- 
id's desk, and commences to put it in order. 
Mulberry puts head in door l. 1 e.) 

Mulberry, (faintly) Good evening. 

(Martin grunts in a had tempered ivay. Savage 
in an ahsent-minded way. Mulberry creeps in 
room, goes vp ladder to bookcases. Takes an 
old book from shelf, gradually becomes absorbed 
in book.) 

(Enter Mulberry faintly) 

Mulberry. Good evening, (puts hat on chair 
near door. Savage nods gloomily, x's to c) There's 
a cloud on the brow of Phoebus Apollo. 



A BACHELOR'S ROMAXCE 49 

Martin. He's in love; they're all in love. 

Savage. There's electricity in the air, you don't 
feel it, you're a non-conductor — you never were in 
love. 

Mulberry, (c.) Every man to his hobby, you to 
your sweetheart, I to my books — (goes vp c, sits on 
ladder and reads) 

David, {enters in r. d. in full evening dress, 
opera hat in hand, handsome, cape coat slung over 
his arm. He stops at entrance, watching Martix 
standing at table, who had taken up a hook and be- 
come interested in it. Savage at Martin's desk — 
Mulberry on ladder — all three men their noses on 
a hook, oblivions of everything) (r., contemplative- 
ly) And I spent twenty years like that — {twangs 
the guitar ivhich he finds R. hanging by bookcase) 
{the three men start — and drop their hooks) Good 
evening, Mulberry (Martin crosses quietly to l. and 
listens) 

Mulberry, {up c.) {tvho has fallen down ladder 
hook in hand) I beg ten thousand pardons, ]\[r. 
Holmes, I was just running through the book shelves. 

David, {behind desk r.) Shaking hands with old 
friends — so to speak — eh, Mulberry. 

Mulberry, (c.) Yes, they are all marked with 
my pencil. Many and many a night I sat up arguing 
the question on the margin of the page — My shelves 
are empty now — they are all gone — all gone. 

David. Not while my shelves shelter them — Mr. 
Mulberry. Whenever you want a couple of the boys 
to take home, — Johnson to drink tea with, Oliver 
Goldsmith to whistle and laugh with you — when 
starvation is at the door — you're heartily welcome. 
I'm going out, so stay a while with your old friends 
of Grub Street and — I warrant you'll be better com- 
pany than I shall. 

Mulberry, {longingly) Thank you, Mr. Holmes 



50 A BACHELOR'S ROMANCE 

—but it seems like selling them— and begging them 
back. Are you quite sure you can spare them. 

David Spare them? I've no use for them— I m 
reading a page of fresh, bubbling, human nature. 
I'm unlearning all the book lore, I ever knew— 1 m 
learning to be young again— there's a science m 
i/ia<— Mulberry— although you may not think it. 
I've resuscitated my old songs— with my old seit. 
(snatching down guitar from wall, K. to Savage) 
Do you remember this?— eh— {sings a snatch of an 
old English song— Sweet Evelina, Dear Evelina, ad 
lib.) Now join in chorus— with a fol de lol roll 
de'lol— 

(Bus. for MuLBEREY who leans forward— eyes light- 
l,^g up— heating time. Mulberry with a crack- 
ed voice {tenor) Savage in. high glee—join 
Martin at door l. venj stiff and solemn) 

DwiD. AR. singing — ichack — fol — de roll 
Now, once again boys— {stops as Miss Clemantina 
appears in doorway— horror stricken— Da-VIT) jails 
against table, guitar in hand, stiff and starch) 

Clemantina {enters) Good evening, Mr. Holmes. 

DwiD. {looking askance at her) Eh— good eve- 
ning— {twangs guitar) Eh— I— didn't expect you 
afte'r our stormy parting— Miss Clemantina, or I 
should have provided quite another form of enter- 
tainment. (Mulberry on chair and Savage in chair 

L. snicker) ^ , , ,r 

Clem (c.) ( looks around sharply to JVLartin, 
who stands at her elbow) What's the name of that 
—Gorilla? 

Martin, (l.) Mulberry— 

Clem. (l. c.) And that— jackanapes— 

Martin. Savage. 

David, {taking up white glove from table, put- 
ting it on) Isn't it rather late for you to be prowl- 
ing about — ' 



A BACHELOR'S ROMANCE 51 

Clem. Fm old enough to take care of myself sir 
—at any time, (softening) I'm living in town for 
a few days— I've been very ill— and the doctor ad- 
vised a change of scene, (sits on sofa) 

David, (r.) I wouldn't think it to look at you. 
Clem. Mr. Holmes, I didn't come here to quarrel 
with you— but my temper's none of the best— and if 
you keep on in that exasperating way— I'll break out 
—I'm not sick bodily— I'm heart-sick. (Martin l. 
through the following—visihlij affected) I have al- 
ways prided myself on being a very strong character. 
Strong enough to live alone. I used to (on settee) 
laugh, and toss my head and say— this one's not 
good enough for me— that one don't suit me— but 
I've made a great mistake Mr. Holmes— we're only 
human after all, we must have something to han'' 
our hearts on — ° 

David, (half abstractedly) "Something to hang 
our hearts on"— (Mulberry up r. sighs— Mauti^ 
ditto — L. of settee. Savage sighs) 

Clem. Someone to think of when we open our 
^es^m the morning. Someone to say "God Bless 
You"— when we close our eyes at night. My Sally 
had such a way of lighting things uj) — 
David. "A way of lighting things up." 
Clem. She used to sing so blithely outside my 
window at sunrise— I— couldn't tell which was the 
lark— and which was Sally, (goes to desk r.) Mr. 
Holmes— I want— Sally back again— I want Sally 
back. *^ 

David, (standing r. of desk) I'm very sorry Miss 
Clemantina — but she has become necessary to us — 
We can't part with her. 

Clem, (on chair l. of table) The child's not in 
good hands Mr. Holmes— I've just come from your 
sister's— Helen was always a silly girl— and she's a 
frivolous woman— There was poor little Sally— with 



52 A BACHELOK'S EOMANCE 

a hairdresser and dressmaker, and a manicure, and 
heavens knows what— fussing and pulling her about. 
She threw her arms around my neck when she saw 
me— I— came down at once to talk it over with you. 

DiViD. Miss Clemantina— you're looking at this 
matter from a most Puritanical point of view. Syl- 
via is very well looked after— m fact— I— myseit— 
am personally superintending— her daily program. 

Clem You— you— well— I've changed my mmd 
about you entirely Mr. Holmes. I thought you'd be 
a crood, staid, respectable,old party— to keep the child 
in check, and I come up here and find a noting, and 
a bawling, like a lot of sailors in a tavern I may 
as well speak my mind while I'm at it— I don t like 
the looks of yo2i at all. 

David. (r. loohing himself over) Uh— you— 
tion't— extraordinary— quite extraordinary. 

Clem, (on sofa) That rig of yours is foolish. 
You look ten years younger than you are. 

David. It's better than looking ten years older, 
than I ''are" isn't it? 

C^LEM. {snapping lior fingers) Oh, very well sir— 
and critic of people. And I give you fair warning— 
I won't stir a step home without Sally— ^ow— 
What do you say to that? , n . ^ n 

David, {singing tvith guitar) ''\Miack fol de roil 

de roll—" ' ^. 11 • 

^ Clem, {snapping her fingers) Oh, very well sir— 
whack fol de roll to your authority sir— whack f ol de 
roll— 

(Mulberry sldps down, and hows low— likewise 

Savage— a// dancing to David's 50/1(7— David 

lo^^ing—iuith guitar plays the refrain of song. 

Clem, exits in rage l.) 

Savage, {throwing himself in chair l. c.) Ha, 

ha, ha ! 



A BACHELOR'S KOMANCE 53 

Martix. {hopelessly) It's all over sir— she'll 
never come near us again. 

David. Never — 

Martin. And you must admit you re not the 
same man, sir, since — ^ 

David, (c.) (good hinnorecUy) {exit to c.) its 
miraculous— I'm wondering at myself continually— 
would you believe it, I'm looking forward to this 
dance with the eagerness of a young girl in her teens. 
When I leave here to-night— I leave twenty years be- 
liii^(j me— {stanfJs at door R. lool^s around at study) 
''Twenty years behind me." {about to exit R. D.) 

Martin, (r. of desk) {at desk, letter in hand) 
This letter sir — 

David, (r. at door) What letter? 

Martin. From the office. 

David, (r. door) {impatiently) I'll read it to- 
morrow. . 

Martin, (r.) It's been lying on your desk since 
this morning — 

David, {in an aggravated tone) 1 cant touch it 
^\ith these white gloves— read it yourself. ^^ 

Martin, {opens letter— reads) "Friend Holmes 

As Judge in our story contest, Ave decline to accept 

your resignation. We are pledged to the public, to 
render a decision in tomorrow's issue, and we appeal 
to your honor not to desert us at this critical moment. 

{During tlie above, David comes to c, gradually has 
lost his air of lightness, and listens intently and 
gravely. Mulberry also dropped his hook and 
listens eagerly, also Savage.) 

David, (c.) Signed — ? 
Martin, (r.) Lockwood— Proprietor. 
Mulberry. Mr. Holmes, you resigned then? 
Savage, (l. in despair) How could you— we all 
depend upon you. 



54 A BACHELOR'S ROMANCE 

David, (c. dnjly) Ye&— I know and I thought 
I'd give you all an opportunity to depend upon your- 
selves. 

Savage, (l.) You'll reconsider your decision. 

David. I must do my duty, {takes ojf his gloves^ 
absent-mindedly, throws them on table) 

Savage, (timidly) Have you read them all, sir? 
(David at desk looks up at Martin) 
(k. lights) 

David, (looks round at the three men hanging 
on his words. Then with a smile of comprehension) 
— One is good — most are bad, and some are hopeless 
— one especially — conceived evidently by a man of 
absolutely no inventive powers, but some technical 
skill — a literary hack, — without doubt. 

Savage, (l. aside) Mulberry. 

MuLBEREY. (l. c. aside) Savage. 

David, (to Martin, ivho leans over desk in crit- 
ical eagerness, his hands iremblitig) If I knew the 
author— I should advise him to withdraw his story 
from the competition— it can bring him neither rep- 
utation or pecuniary reward, (without looking up) 
Savage, would you mind calling in at my sister's — 

Savage, (ecstatically) Would I mind? 

David. — And ask — if they won't all come down 
here for me — (Savage during this has taken hat 
from mantel shelf and flies out of the door L. D.) 
and Savage — 

Martin, (r. behind drop) He's gone, sir. 

MuLBERHY. (dryly) Very mucli gone — on the 
lady— I should say— (chuckles faintly, as Mai^tin 
makes a peremptory sign to Mulberry to exit) 
(MUSIC) 

Martin, (at David's elbow) Mr. David— would 
you mind letting me see the ''Hopeless Story/' 
(MUSIC) 



A BACHELOR'S ROMANCE 55 

(David looks up quickly at Martin, then hands him 
the story — Martin crosses to c. — looks at it 
eagerly — David ivatching him) (turns down 
lamp on desk e.) 

[LIGHTS DOWN) 

Martin, {crosses to fireplace — gives one quick 
look at David, whose head is hent down over desk, 
then throws the manuscript into fire — watching it burn 
— pitifully agitated. David rises quietly — crosses to 
Martin who turns from fire, finds himself face to 
face with David, ivho extends his hand, and grasps 
Martin's firmly) {with averted eyes) I'm used to 
it — sir — I've been a failure all my life — I think it's 
all Miss Clemantina's fault. 

David. Miss Clemantina. 

Martin. Yes — long ago — she was Just such an- 
other — as — Miss Sylvia. Of course — she couldn't 
care for an old fellow almost — twice her age. 

David, {troubled) Twice her age. 

Martin. She wound herself about me — with her 
saucy ways. 

David. I can understand that, Martin. 

Martin. It was a great disappointment — some- 
how — after that, I failed in everything — anything 
more, sir? 

David, {abstractedly) Xo, Martin — {exit Mar- 
tin L. 1 E.) {stop music) A man twice her age — 
Martin was a fool — to expect it — A Bachelor's Ro- 
mance — I wish Helen had not told me, it was Har- 
old's — I must read it again, and try to consider it 
from an impersonal standpoint. 

Harold, {puts his head in door L. 1 E. in full 
evening dress) May I come in Mr. Holmes? 

David, {starting) Harold! 

Harold, (l. c.) I'm on my way up to your sis- 



56 A BACHELOR'S ROMA>XE 

ter's— I thought I might catch you, and we'd go 
together. . ^ 

David, (r.) As I was starting off, some unex- 
pected work dropped in on me. 

HAiiOLD. Then— it's no use waiting— I suppose— 
(DiviD's head down, over desk— Harold goes to 
door, L. comes hack to L. of desk ii.) Mr. Holmes-- 
(David looks up with an annoyed expression) i 
wanted to speak to you about Sylvia- (David se:c- 
pression changes to one of interest) You re such a 
busy man— she must be a great responsibility to you. 
David. She's on my mind a great deal. 
Harold. I think she's a sweet girl Mr Holmes 
—I've never met a sweeter girl. In fact, I in sure 
she's the very sweetest girl on earth, {looks at David 
rather timidly) 

David, (r. dryly) If you are ready to open a 
debate on that subject, you'll have to find another 
opponent— as I am entirely of your opinion 

Harold, (hrightening) I've had a long talk with 
vour sister. Your sister says, she is m your way 
and if you have no objection— I— I'd like very much 
to take her off your hands. , ^ -, u -^ 

David. Take her off my hands— I don t quite 
understand. 

Harold. I— I— mean to marry her— when my 
prospects are better, of course— will you speak a good 
word for me ? 

David, {falling hack) Er— er— me— to speak— 
for you — Does she care — 

Harold, {at desk) I hope I'm not asking too 
much of you, Mr. Holmes? {looks down at desk, 
starts lack, to c, staggering) My story— {puts his 
hand to his head) 

David, {coming down l. of his desk) i li— i u 
think it over Harold. 

Harold, {gratefully) Thank you, thank you, sir, 



A BACHELOR'S ROMANCE 57 

■ — Mr. Holmes — Do you think I can write a good 
story? 

David, (looking at dcsJc on the l.) I know you 
can. 

Harold, (wild with joy) Oh sir — you don't know 
how happy you've made me — you can do so much 
for me in every way, if you want to. 

David, (puts his arms round him) I do want to, 
Harold, my boy — I do — but — (ahruptlij turning 
away) You'd better go now and let me do my work 
— I have an important question to decide tonight. 

Harold, (c.) (aside) Tonight, then I won't keep 
you — I'll roam about for an hour, and come back 
for you — 

David, (at l. of desk) Yes — do — 

Harold, (going to l. d. aside) Will he give me 
the prize — will he? (exit l. d.) 

David, (stands l. of desk — looking after him) I 
envy that boy his youth, ( goes back to desk, on the 
R. of it, sits down, becomes gradually engrossed in 
story) Very good, excellently thought out — far 
ahead of any of the others — (still seoied) The love 
interest is so delicate, and fresh. The first love story 
— that has interested me in years. There's no doubt 
of it. Harold deserves the prize. $10,000 a nice 
little nest Qgg to start housekeeping with. He seems 
sure of Sylvia — naturally — they are both young and 
— (despairingly) How I have struggled and starved 
for years — it was out of the question for me to think 
of marriage — if I give him this money — he will 
marry at once, (fiercely) I'll make that impossible. 
(takes up M. S.) Here's another — I know the style 
— it's Savage's — he's had a hard battle to fight — poor 
devil — it's his turn first — Harold can wait — yes — 
Savage is my man — I'LL give the prize to Savage. 

(The door opens softly, strong light in hall — shows 



58 A BACHELOR'S ROMANCE 

Sylvia enveloped in long cloak— she hols in 
the room, sees David at desk. Enters quietly, 
throws off her cloak, shows a full dress ball toi- 
lette, stands up stage, moonlight from window 
envelopes her) 

David, (ruhhing his eyes) Wonderful— the imag- 
ination, I can see her standing over there as dis- 
tinctly as possible, — most life like— {crosses to 
where Sylvia stands, she dodges him, and gets out 
of^ hts way toivards R. desk) How fanciful I am— 
its nobody of course, (iurns and sees Sylvia stand- 
i^ig by his desk) There's the illusion again over 
there— this won't do— I must drive it away, (as 
Sylvia advances to him c. he starts back— ^ylxia 
laughing, extends both her hands) 

David, (l. c.) {delightedly grasping it) Sylvia. 

bYLviA. (r. c.) I've run away again. Mr. Sav- 
age seemed to have so much to say to Helen, I grew 
tired of waiting— I jumped into the carriage and 
came down to keep you company; you're not a bit 
glad to see me. 

David. Xot glad, {lays his hand softly on her 
hand) 

Sylvia. Come, go back to your desk, and I will 
sit by you and keep you companv. {leads him to 
desk and jumps upon desk in front) What's the 
unexpected work? Prize story— eh— I knew it. 

David, {seated k. of desk r.) You knew it? 

Sylvia, {seated in front of desk) Certainly— I 
was sure they wouldn't accept your resignation, it's 
not so easy to find a conscientious, honorable man. 

David. Honorable — conscientious— {slowly) But 
suppose I was not worthy of the confidence reposed 
in me, suppose I had some personal interest of my 
own, m giving the prize to the man— who did not 
deserve it. 



A BACHELOR'S ROMANCE 59 

Sylvia. You — 

David. Imagine the case that way. 

Sylvia. {indignantly) I can^t — since I was 
seven years old — and I read papa's letter about you 
— I always thought of you differently from the others 
better — than the others, and it's grown up with me, 
as I have grown — if any one else hinted such a thing 
about you — I would take it as a personal insult — 
There. 

David. (wiping his forehead) Don't get so 
worked up about it child — I was only joking. 

Sylvia, (aside-— talcing David in) Mr. David 
looks very nice tonight. 

(David turns, catches her loolcing at him) 

Sylvia. Mr. David — I wonder — I won't ask you 
tvho is going to get the prize, but you can tell me — 
what the story is about, can't you. 

David. It's about a young man just entering the 
battle of life, full of strength and courage like Har- 
old, and an old man world-weary, tired, and used 
up — like me. 

Sylvia, (comprehensivehj) Like you? 

(READY WHISTLE) 

David. And a young girl, sweet and good — 
who came into this world-weary man's life, like a 
sudden burst of music, into a long, solemn silence" 
— and — then — 

Sylvia, (listens with hated breath) ^'And then" — 
David, (watching her) "The young man loved 
her of course." 

Of 



-of 
the 



Sylvia. 


(coquettishly, tossing her head) 


course — 




David. 


"And she loved the young man- 


course." 




Sylvia. 


Oh! you're making it up — but 



60 A BACHELOR'S ROMANCE 

most important— who does she marry? Tell me 
quick ? 

David, (puts his hand on hers) She marries — 
who would she be likely to marry? Sylvia. 

Sylvia. {Joohing hach at him, soleninhj) She'd 
be likely to marry the man — she loves. 

David, (imtiing his hand on hers) ''The man 
she loves" (hits.) (a whistle heard up the tuhe, hoth 
jump) (angrily) Some meddlesome intruder— 
(crosses to door, exit in hall l. 1 e.) 

Sylvia. Oh, dear. I never get a moment to talk 
to you, Mr. David. Poor, quiet Mr. David— 

Savage, (outside) This way, Mrs. Le Grand. 
Be careful of that last step. I'll open the door for 
you. 

Sylvia, (sit ling np) Here they are. 

Helen, (enters l. d. in hall attire, followed hi/ 
Savage, tuith a pile of hooJcs on his arm — hns. of 
dropping them one hy one in eiuharra^ssnient) (sits 
on sofa) Oh, those stairs ! 

Savage, (folloio Helen) Oh, tlie pity of it. 

(Sylvia has retired— goes up ladder, out window, 
onto roof, exits.) 

Helen. Of what? 

Savage. You would be perfect if you had a 
heart. 

Helen, (laughing) A heart! 

Savage. Be natural. 

Helen. Oh, I am perfectly natural, (tales out 
powder puff and glass — powders her face) 

Savage. Go back to nature. Rise with the sun. 

Helen. And go to bed with the chickens. 

Savage. Listen to your natural impulses. 

Helen. Oh, I dare not! 

Savage. Oh, yes, you dare. What is natural is 
true. 



A BACHELOR'S ROMANCE 61 

Helen. Well, I'll test your theory of naturalism. 
rU take Gerald to spend the summer with Miss 
Clemantina. Real, old-fashioned farm life. Perhaps 
I shall hear something wonderful there. 

Savage. You will. The wonder is always there. 
But we must open our ears, our hearts, to the 
wonder. 

Helen". What is it? 

Savage. Love. 

David, (o id side) Enter, please. Such an array 
of color in my sombre dwelling is indeed rare. 

(Savage drops Helen's liand. Goes up.) 

Harriet, (l. enters l. d,, Joohs ahoul) What a 
quaint old place ! 

Helex. {embarrassed, sharphj) Where is Sylvia? 

David, (c.) I left her here — (looks about, under 
table, etc., going up c. towards Cupola) 

Helen", {with smelling salts) (r. c.) It's really 
very inconsiderate of her, running off in such an 
untrained fashion — she keeps me continually on the 
alert. Xow, Mr. Savage, shall I keep a dance for 
you before or after supper? 

Savage, (x to c.) {intensely) 12:30— If I live 
and "Harold" don't fail me. 

Helen, (l. c.) Why? 

Savage, {embarrassed) Well, j'ou see — ; step 
into his shoes — I mean he steps into mine — Our 
shoes — {aside) Stretches them out with his big 
feet, {aside, coming to door R.) {at entrance) Oh, 
if I owned a dress suit, I'd conquer the world. (Hel- 
en tool's at him, half laughing, half sad) (Harriet 
re7nains, on entering, near door L.) (Sylvia Somers 
puts head in window c.) 

Sylvia, {up in Cupola c.) It's perfectly glorious 
r— up here — come up — it won't spoil your dresses. 



62 A BACHELOR'S ROMANCE 

Helen, {on ladder. Savage helps her up) David 
how long are you going to keep us waiting? 

David. Not long — if you'll give me a chance to 
finish my work. Savage — take the ladies up on the 
roof. Tune the light guitar for the ladies — Savage. 
The floor is well swept with the breezes of night and 
it's gloriously illuminated by that '^orbed maiden 
with wiiite fire laden whom mortals call the moon." 
(exit Helen and Savage on roof) (Gerald's voice 
is heard grumMing about the stairs of l.) There's 
Gerald now — I'll leave him to you Miss Harriet. 
{exits L. 2 e. — as Gerald stumbles into room from 
L. He has been drinMng enough to ma'ke him quar- 
relsome, but he is not intoxicated) (Harriet comes 
to R.) 

Gerald, {stumbling over Martin's deslc l.) Con- 
found it David — you're leading us a pretty dance — 
dragging us up these endless — dark stairs — {sees 
Harriet r. c.) Oh! — T beg ten thousand pardons 
— Miss Leicester — {takes off hat) 

(Harriet r. c.) 

Gerald, {laughs) (Harriet crosses up to stairs 
c.) You're not going — I'm not fit company for my- 
self tonight — 

Harriet, (l. c.) {coming doivn l. c.) Then you 
should have better taste — than to inflict yourself 
upon others — 

Gerald, (r. c.) {tahing her in) Haven't you 
been sulking long enough? — I — I can't get along 
without you — {hold out his hand with a tvinning 
smile) No — then — anytlmig you say — I'll compro- 
mise on vour own terms, {between his teeth) D 

it— 

Harriet, {turns, goes up ladder c.) I should try 
and control my temper — if I were you — or you will 
disenchant the next favored one, sooner than even — 



A BACHELOR'S ROMANCE 63 

your ever fickle fancy could desire — (exits up ladder 
c. onto roof) 

Gerald. Harriet, I say — ITarrict — I never would 
have believed you could be so disagreeable. These 
confounded women, — a man never knows how to take 
them. 

(Sylvia Somers enter.^ ih rough a window c. — over 
hooJiCase) 

Gerald, (aside) Ah! — Sylvia, (goes gently up 
to l. foot of ladder, so Sylvia cannot see him) 

Sylvia, (hopping on one foot) Oh — dear — I 
nearly twisted my ankle, getting around here — I — 
wonder — if I can get down this way. 

Gerald, (on ladder) Not without my permis- 
sion — fair lady. 

Sylvia, (shrinhing hach) Mr. Gerald ! — ■ 

Gerald. Are you afraid of me? 

Sylvia. No — I'm not — 

Gerald. Then why do you shrink away? Give 
me your hand — little one. Am I so distasteful to 
you? 

Sylvia, (on top of ladder) You're Mr. David's 
brother. 

Gerald. Ah ! — that raises me in your estimation 
—give Mr. David's brother your hand. (Sylvia ex- 
tends her hand — and he draws her half way doivn 
the ladder, she tries to draw her hand from his, and 
he takes her forcihly in liis arms, and swings her to 
the ground on his L.) Now — what do I get for my 
trouble ? 

Sylvia, (l. in terror) Mr. Gerald! — 

Gerald, (c.) A kiss — 

Sylvia. How dare you — let me go — 

Gerald, (laughing) Of course— you'll resist— 
I must — 



64 A BACHELOR'S ROMANCE 

Sylvia, (l. c.) (screams) Ah! 

David, (enters quickly r. d. 2 e) Gerald! (Ger- 
ALD releases Sylvia^ icho sinlcs on sofa c. l. of desk 
n., covers her face ivifh her hands) 

Gerald, (c. laughing uneasily — and sobered) 
Don't look so horrified — David — there's nothing so 
very terrible — in trying to steal a kiss from a pretty 
girl. 

David, (r. fiercely) Silence! 

Sylvia, (rushing between them.) Mr. David. 

David, (jnishing her gently towards the staircase) 
Go Sylvia — go with the others. 

Sylvia. Oh! — no — I don't want them to know. 
(puts up her face ivet with tears) (David kindly 
leading her to door r.) (at entrance) You won't 
quarrel with him? (exit R. 2 e.) 

David, (exits to c. quietly) When I brought the 
child to Helen — I did not think my brother would 
be the one to make me regret it. This last insult — 
(Gerald rises half ashamed) 

Gerald, (l. c.) Insult — that's entirely too severe 
a word, I wouhln't liarm Sylvia for the world — I'm 
— I'm very fond of her, and I'm not such a libertine, 
as you imagine! She'd make a splendid wife — 
wouldn't she? (J) ayid starts) If I must marry — 

David, (r. c.) No! No! 

Gerald, (angrily) What do you mean by that? 

David, (r. c. excitedly) It would be a sacrilege. 

Gerald, (sneeringly) Very flattering — I'm sure 
— but your opinion doesn't matter. I'll run off with 
her, she's good at that. 

David, (interrupting) I forbid you as her guar- 
dian — to speak a word of love to that child. 

Gerald, (laughing) (derisively) I'll show you 
how that child will take to my words of love — ^how 
naturally she will return them. 

David, (beside himself, rushing at Gerald, with 



A BACHELOR'S ROMAXCE 65 

uplifted arm) YOU SHALL XOT I'LL— I'LL 
(Gerald stands unflinchingly — David drops his 
arm to his side) 

Gerald, {in low intense tones) By what right — 
do you sit in judgment on me, I'm a pleasure seeker 
— I admit it — but at least — a man of flesh and 
blood, (David winces) But I quite understand your 
motive in this case, you're horror stricken, if I speak 
to Sylvia. You're in agony, when I dance with her, 
you're jealous not only of me, but of every man — 
who approaches her. 

David, (r. c.) (dazed) Jealous! — why — should 
Ibe— 

Gerald, (l. c.) (interrupting) Why! — because — 
you are in love with her — Ah ! — deny it — if you can 

— (David puts his Itand to his tiead, staggers against 
desk R.) 

Gerald, (going to him, towards r. c.) (alarmed) 
David — old chap — I didn't mean — T — I — I'm excit- 
able tonight — I — 

David. In love ! — In love ! — Yes — but I have 
never called it by that name — even to myself. Ha! 
Ha! — An ascetic (longingly) It's too late for me 

— (then with a yearning cry) Gerald — is it too 
late? 

Gerald. Brother! I — I hate to say it — but if 
you ask me — it would be the worst of folly for you 
to marry a young girl — and I'm — I'm afraid you 
wouldn't have very much chance with Sylvia — 

(David who has been gazing eagerly into Gerald's 
face, releases his arm and sinks hack in chair 
by desk) 

David. Yes — yes — you're right. She is not for 
us — but — for one of her own tastes, and age, who 
loves her and whom she loves in return. Not for us. 
Not for us. 



^e A BACHELOR'S ROMANCE 

Gerald, (c.) Xo woman is worth it. I — I — 
wish we had kept together, as brothers should — 
perhaps you would have gotten more out of life — 
I — less, (sloiuly) (shudders) Ugh. (in old recJc- 
less tone) This place is enough to give a man the 
blues. I'll go ahead, and see we get something fit 
to drink. 

(Gerald stops at entrance r., looks at David — 
theii exits L. lightly) 

David, (stands hopeless) (Sylvia appears in 
doorway L., comes down to David timidly) (he 
grasps her hand) (excitedly) (rise) It wasn't fair 

to you — poor child. It was selfish, criminal. 1 

will make it right for you — for Harold. He loves 
you. He's worthy of you — j^ou shall be his wife. 

Sylvia. Harold's wife ! — you want me to marry 
Harold? 

(Harold appears at door l. Sylvia with a little 
sob of disappointment — goes up stage — Har- 
old crosses to David) 

David, (puts his arm ahont Harold's shoul- 
ders) Harokl my boy — (indicates Sylvia) 

Harold, (joyously) (David nods. Harold 
rushes up stage to Sylvia. David moves to door 
w. and stanjds with Tcnoh in hand, door between him 
and them) 

Harold. I want to tell you myself — how much 
I love you. I wanted to tell you ever so long ago, 
but I was afraid — think of it dear — a big fellow 
like me — afraid of such a little girl. There's a 
star just over my window — I call Sylvia, all my 
stories — I'll dedicate to Sylvia — I dedicate my life 
to Sylvia — if she'll let me. (David softly shuts the 
door) Sylvia — do you love me? — 

Sylvia. I — I have never thought of love seri- 



A BACHELOR'S ROMANCE 67 

ously. (in a forlorn way) I'm all alone in the 
world. Nobody seems to want me. Mr. David has 
no time for his friend's little girl. He promised to 
take care of me, and he hasn't kept his word. 

Harold. He's going to do so much for us in the 
future Sylvia — If you will marry me — 

Sylvia, (c. doivn) (recoiling down stage — with 
a cry) Oh ! — no — not now — Not now Harold — 
(Helen enters c, followed hy Savage and Har- 
riet who join Harold up stage, as Sylvia throws 
herself into Helen's arms) Mr. David — wants me 
to marry Harold. 

Helen, (l. c.) Has he asked you? That's good 
— it will simplify matters for us all. Poor David, 
he's not used to girls, and it will be a great burden 
off his shoulders. (Helen goes toivard l. All shake 
hands with Ukroijd. Harriet fe9es Sylvia. General 
congratulations.) 

Sylvia, (c.) (recoiling) I'm a burden to him — 

Helen. (Enter David) David! — (he has his old 
coat on and spectacles, looks hent and old. Sits down. 
Quietly withont looking up goes to his desk) 

David, (r.) Don't wait for me— I am not going. 

Sylvia, (c.) (aside) Not going. 

Helen, (r. c.) But David — I have some good 
news for you. 

David, (impatiently) Yes — I know all about it. 
(Helen, Savage and Harriet crowd round desk, 
except Sylvia) Please go away — good people — go 
and enjoy yourselves — I shall never get through 
my work — good night to you all — (aside to Helen 
despairingly) Helen my girl — take them away. 



68 A BACHELOR'S ROMANCE 

Harold, (comes to l. c. l. of Helen) (Helen)" 
It's the prize contest that bothers him — there is so 
much depending on it, for us all. 

Helen, (comes to r. c. r. of Savage) Come — 
(crosses to entrance L. and exits, followed by Har- 
riet and Savage.) 

(Harold comes down with Sylvia's cloak, ivraps it 
around her.) (Sylvia lool-s at David — who 
has his head bent over desk. After a pause 
extends her hand to Harold, who kisses it. 
Leads her towards entrance R. Martin enters 
E. noiselessly from right and puts out light on 
David's desk, as Sylvia icith a last look back 
at David, passes out. Sounds of laughing out- 
side, David raises his head from desk, and lis- 
tens eagerly.) (Laughter gradually dying away. 
David drops his head on desk. Martin behind 
David's desk r.) 

Martin. Mr. David. 

David, (looks up at Martin) (hands him letter) 
Martin, (wistfully) I can know now sir — 
David. Harold Reynolds — has won the prize. 

CURTAIN 

(Martin takes his hat, crosses noiselessly to en- 
trance Jj.j exits L.) 

(David bends head over desk — writes — moonlight 
streams in on him.) 

SLOW CURTAIX 

(David still at desk, fire out — day light dawns) 

SECOND CURTAIN 



A BACHELOR'S ROMANCE 69 

ACT IV 

(Exterior of Aunt Clemantina's house in the 
country, a rural garden, trout yond at hack — 
practical rustic bridge — from which runs prac- 
tical path up stage off L.) 

Clemantina. (enters from house, followed by 
Harold, dressed very swell and foppish, in city at- 
tire, in contrast to former Bohemian carelessness.) 
Are you really off to the city — Harold? 

Harold, (r.) I take the seven o'clock express. 
I've threatened so often, this time I'm going. 

Clemantina. (c.) (looking at him sharply) 
You've had another tiff with Sally. 

Harold, (hesitatingly) We are not the best of 
friends, but falling out is a habit with engaged 
people, it varies the monotony. How long are your 
other boarders going to stay? 

Clemantina. Miss Harriet goes home next week. 
Helen and Gerald want to stay over the fall. 
They've all learnt — one good thing this summer — 
to help themselves. 

(Sylvia enter slowly, b.., stops on bridge, very 
quiet, and settled. In contrast to former girl- 
ish gaiety, long dress, and an attempt to ap- 
pear womanly in appearance.) 

Clemantina. (c.) You look fagged out, Sally 
— Where have you been ? 

Sally, (l.) To the post office. A letter for 
you from Mr. David and the Review, (gives Clem- 
antina the letter) 

Harold, (r.) May I see that, please — (Sylvia 
hands him paper — he unfolds it and reads it) 

Clemantina. (opening letter) David's weekly 



70 A BACHELOR'S ROMANCE 

bulletin — I know it by heart — hopes you are well. 
Sends you a packet of books. He promises to pay 
you a visit, when he gets time, (goes up to porch, 
peels apple) 

Habold. (down c.) (angrily, throwing down 
paper) That fellow Savage is exploiting himself 
again. I can't understand his sudden popularity. 

Sylvia. I can — he is clever. 

Harold. I suppose that means — I am not. 

Sylvia, .(l.) You were before you wrote a prize 
story, but success seemed to paralyze your energies. 
You've done nothing well since. 

Harold, (coming down c.) (loftily) I shall 
make arrangements with some large house, and pub- 
lish my own stories in future. 

Sylvia. Is that because nobody will take them? 

Harold, (angrily) Sylvia!! 

Sylvia. I don't like the way you speak of your 
friend, Mr. Savage — when you won the prize, he con- 
gratulated you in a most gracious manner — now he's 
getting along — you're jealous of him. 

Harold, (c. angrily) Sylvia! — I won't be lec- 
tured like a school boy — I — 

Sylvia, (l. interrupiing) I won't flatter you — 
Harold — I ivill tell you the truth — I — (Sylvia 
goes to upper end of porch. Harold goes to bridge) 

Clemantina. (r.) There — There — children — 
don't fight — (they turn their hacks on each other, 
as Gerald comes c. Old farm costume, big hat, 
raTce over his shoidder — sleeves rolled up. Jolly, 
active manner in contrast to former languid move- 
ments) 

Gerald, (pushing baclc hat and wiping Ms fore- 
head) (Harold noiu goes up r. c.) There, Aunt 
Clemantina — your hay's all in — you'll find I've 
made a pretty good job of it — for an amateur farm- 
er, (down, to tree l., throws water over his head — 



A BACHELOR'S ROMANCE 71 

icashes his hands at pump) Ah!— this is fine— {exit 
n., meets Sylvia and takes towel, Sylvia goes to 
porch) 

Harold, (coming down ii. c. to Gekald) I must 
say_I do not share the general enthusiasm in re- 
gard to country life — 

Clemantina. (r. on porch, seated) Humph! — 
you are in your room — dressing up most of the time, 
ilow many suits of clothes have you got in that big 
trunk of vours? 

Harold, (c.) Miss Clemantina, before I won the 
prize, I owned half interest in two dilapidated suits 
of clothes — now I have the exquisite satisfaction of 
possessing twelve— Have a cigar, Holmes— choice 
Havana, {go to Sylvia) 

Gerald, {ivho has pulled down his sleeves and 
made himself tidy) {sits upon the lench l.) No, 
thanks— I've sworn off. ^ 

Harold. Sylvia— I wish you'd ask Miss Leices- 
ter to give you some hints about dress — ^You've 
been getting yourself up lately in a most old-fash- 
ioned manner— she always looks well— {brushes his 
hoots with his handkerchief, and strolls off R. haclc 
of house) 

Gerald. Aunt Clem— was I ever such a fool as 

that? . . 

Clemantina. {on porch) Not quite— {exit in 

house R.) 

Gerald, {quietly to Sylvia ivho sits with her 
head down) I beg your pardon— I quite forgot— 

Sylvia. Oh! you didn't hurt my feelings— 
The prize has turned Harold's head. He imagines 
he's thrown himself away on me, when an heiress 
like Miss Leicester could be had for the asking. I'm 
afraid I don't care for Harold as— I— I— should. I 
keep comparing him with somebody else — so mod- 
est, so quiet. I have gone out of his life now, but 



72 A BACHELOR'S RO:yiAXCE 

he hasn't gone out of mine. Every night, after I 
say my prayers, there are always two names on my 
lips — ^Tather and Mr. David." (sit on bench c.) 
: Gerald, (watching her) What's this — What's 
this — Ah — ha! (to c.) (to Sylvia) (sits down hy 
her) Sylvia — My brother David loves you, not 
as a guardian loves his ward, but as a man, who late 
in years loves one woman. "'The only woman in his 
simple, lonely life." (Sylvia rises, — Jjreathless) 
He never knew it himself — poor old chap — until I 
found it out for him. Of course you didn't care for 
him. (ivatching her) But if you had, what a ro- 
mance it would have been in an old bachelor's life — 
such a sweet young wife. 

Sylvia. Ah ! 

Gerald, (mischievously) Now you are angry — 
(as Miss Clemantina enters from house r.) 

Sylvia. Ah — Gerald — (runs to — throivs her 
arms about his necJc) How I love you — (enter 
Clemantina r.) 

Clemaxtixa. What! (Sylvia rushes past her 
info house R.) (exit R. u. s.) 

Gerald, (to Clemaxtixa) (facing L. at c.) 
David — dear old chap — He won't know what a good 
turn I've done him. 

Clemaxtixa. Gerald, you were born with a good 
heart, I'm sure, but that city life dried it up. Xow 
you've grown really handsome — 

Gerald. iVnd hungry — 

Clemaxtixa. Now, you'll make some woman a 
proper sort of husband. 

Gerald. Hush ! Don't let Harriet hear that. I'll 
lose my had reputation. 

(Enter Harriet^ rosy and light-footed. She has a 
basket of eggs on her arm) 

Harriet. Ah ! Miss Clemantina ! All mv nest 



A BACHELOR'S RO^IANCE 73 

eggs are hatched. Oh, how my heart beat when the 
dear little things poked their heads out of their 
shells. Wonderful — 

Clemantixa. Humph! As if chickens aren't 
hatched every day! 

Gerald. Wonderful ! (steals an egg out of Har- 
riet's basket, puts a pin in it and throwing back 
his head, sucks it down with an expression, of 
delight) 

{Entrance of Helen) 

Helen, {coming on, looking off) Lie do^vn — ■ 
bad cow, lie down, or you won't get your bran 
mash. {Enter Helen, with milk pail and three- 
legged stool in her hand. She is dressed in cotton 
frock and white fichu open at the neck) {puts down 
stool, sits on it) Oh, it's so beautiful ! How that cow 
follows me ! Those pleading eyes ! She only over- 
turned the pail once this time, {hands pail to 
Gerald) 

Gerald, {puts it to his mouth and drinks it) 
Ah! 

Clemantina. And how many times did she 
overturn you? 

Helen, {modestly) Oh, I'm getting used to 
that. The ground is soft and there's nobody around 
to laugh at me. {crosses to) 

Clemantina. {taking the pail from Gerald's 
mouth) That'll do! {goes to balconij) 
{Enter Harold from house) 

Helen. I say, Harold, look out for your laurels ! 
Here's another poem in The Review by Mr. Savage. 
He's rising rapidly. 

(Harold steps r. Harriet who is L. of Helen, 
grabs it) 

Harriet, {looking over her shoulder) {takes the 
paper from Helen. Helen works around x. l. of 



74 A BACHELOR'S ROMANCE 

Haeriet) "To Helen" — A sonnet by L. Savage. 
Set to music — with guitar accomiDaniment. 

(Helen snatches the paper quicMy from Hakriet^ 
puts it behind her hack. Gerald comes dov:n 
snatches the paper quickly from Helen — hold- 
ing at arm's length — reads) 

Gerald, (l. of Helen, luho is almost c.) (l. by 
bench) "Oh! — Oh! midsummer's dear madness! 
*'0h! Time of rapturous gladness! ''With heart of 

mine — pressed close to thine" (PIelen reaches 

for paper) (Gerald laughing — holding paper out 
of her reach — reads) "\Yith clinging arms close 
interlaced — "In thrilling — maddening — wild em- 
brace" — 

Clemantina. (r. on porch) Stop! I declare, 
that's indecent. 

Helen, {to Harriet) (sound of guitar — outside 
L.) Oh, listen! (as Savage enters c. ralher fan- 
tastically dressed, with guitar, singing, Sylvia ap- 
pears on porch) 

Savage, (doicn c.) Good day to you all. I've 
been singing as I came, from sheer joy at the 
thought — of seeing you — (looks at Helen l. ex- 
treme) all again, (shakes hands with Ger- 
ald and Harriet) Harold, old fellov/ — 

Harold, (sullenly) (affecting not to see his out- 
stretched arm) How are you — Savage, (goes up to 
bridge) (during this scene Gerald works around 
back to porch) 

Savage, (shrugs his shoulders good-hum or edly) 
Miss Clemantina, I have news for you. I am not 
alone. Mr. — Holmes is with me — 

Sylvia, (r.) Mr. David — 

Savage, (significantly) He has had a miser- 
able time of it since Martin fell sick. 

Clemantina. (r.) Martin sick? 



A BACHELOR'S ROMANCE 75 

Savage. Yes, and Mr. Holmes nursed him night 
and day. There's not another man in the world like 
Mr. Holmes — and with the doctor's help, I per- 
suaded him to bring Martin here — 

Clemantina. Martin here? — Martin here? — I 
must go and get a room ready for him. (exit into 
house E.) (Savage goes h. to Helen) 

Sylvia, (runs to Gerald joyfully, who is ne(ir 
porch) (business) Gerald! (hugs him — Har- 
EIET recoils and enters house E., followed by Gee- 
ald — as Sylvia flies off toward i\.) 

Haeold. (comes down to Savage) I suppose I 
ought to congratulate you. I always said you'd dig 
and dig until you struck something— but, there's 
one thing I could never teach you — good taste. 
Since you've selected your own clothes, you look 
fantastic. 

Savage, (good-humoredly) Fantasy is my strong 
point. You look dead level, conventional. That's 
your strong point — (exit Haeold^ behind house) 

Helen, (aside) Serve him right 

Savage, (c.) (turns to Helen l.) It's a pleas- 
ure to look at you — Mrs. Le Grand. 

Helen, (l.) I enjoy everything. I shall never 
be a fashionable woman again. I shall commence a 
crusade at once against wearing stuffed birds in 
bonnets — cruel to kill the pretty, singing things. I 
shall never be idle. I think I shall run a model 
farm, or some other model institution. 

Savage, (bends down — looks at her scrutiniz- 
ingly — then quickly hisses her) I couldn't heir) it. 
It — it — it seemed so— 

Helen. Natural? (he puts his arm about her. 
As they go off L. 3 d.^ Sylvia comes running over 
the bridge E.) 

Sylvia. Miss Clemantina, Mr. David is coming! 
(meets Geeald on porch and bumps. Geeald and 



76 A BACHELOR'S. ROMANCE 

Harriet, aficr looking ojf c, drop down hehind 
bench L.) 

(Enter Clemantina after this hiisincss) 

Clemantina. (loohing ojf c.) And there's Mar- 
tin — followed by that old — kangaroo — Mulberry. 

David. (David appears coming up the road, sup- 
porting Martin who looks done up and shaky, fol- 
lowed hij Mulberry with hand hag, etc. They come 
down slowly, David speaking encouragingly to Mar- 
tin) There, now, here we are. Hold w]) your head, 
man, and look about you. 

Martin. I can't, Mr. David. I'll never hold up 
my head again. 

David. Xonsense! Cheer up, old man. Gently, 
now. Gently, down — there — now you can rest. 
(puts Martin on bench l., his head dropped on his 
breast) 

Clemantina. (c. r.) Mr. Holmes — 

David, (motions her away, takes Martinis hands 
anxiously — Mulberry jumping about nervously — 
opens bag — extracts medicine bottle) 

Mulberry, (pours drops from vial — gives them 
to Martin) 

David, (coming towards Clemantina at c.) Mis9 
Clemantina, despite your acrid quality of tongue, 
3^our heart is sound. For humanity's sake, will you 
help a fellow-creature back to life and health ? 

Clemantina. (sharply) Of course I will. There's 
no need to ask that, Mr. Holmes, (crosses to Mar- 
tin — Mulberry bows louj) 

David, (looks at them wonderingly) Where did 
3'ou all spring from? Oh! I had quite forgotten. 
Let me look at you — lad — (puts his hands on Ger- 
ald''s shoulder — takes him in — ) Mother Nature — 
seems to have been a good nurse — 



A BACHELOR'S KOMANCE 77 

(Enter" Helen and Hareiet) 

Gerald. The best in the world— I'm a real son 
of the soil — {goes up to n.) 

David, (imts his hand under Helen's cliin ivho 
is on his L.) Nature has woke up the heart in you 
— my dear — I can see that — and cured your heart- 
ache. 

Harriet, {laughing) And I never lie awake 
nights, as I used to — that's because I'm tired out 
from running all day long — 

{Both go yp to Gerald and Savage) 

Clemantina. (to David) Mr. Holmes — I sup- 
pose — you'd like some supper? 

David, (c.) I would — Miss Clemantina — if you 
would send me a bite out here. The rest and quiet 
would be a boon. 

Clemantina. Come, Martin — come, you poor 
•soul — lean on me (takes him across stage to R.) 

Mulberry. Any fish in the brook, mum? (com- 
ing dotvn) 

Clemantina. Plenty — but fishing requires pa- 
tience — (exit) 

Mulberry. I've learnt that lesson, (x'ing to R.) 

David, (c. coming down) Take a hand at it 
— after supper — Mulberry — 

Mulberry. Thanks — I don't mind if I do — 
(exits into house R.) 

(All off, David alone) 

Sylvia, (enters with tray r. She stands on bal- 
cony — David on seeing her — rises from Ids seat — 
looks at her — then in a simple impressive manner — 
slowly lifts his hat from his head — demurely) 
Good-evening — Mr. David — (comes down — puts the 
tray on table in front of him) (David sits looking 



78 A BACHELOR'S ROMANCE 

at Sylvia) You must be hungry after your jour- 
ney— 

David, (eyes fixed on Sylvia) Yes — I'm hun- 
gry- 

Sylvia, (pours out milh, arranges tray, hut David 
sits watching her every movement — after a pause 
David mechanically takes glass — clrinhs millc — 
still with eyes following Sylvia, who crosses 
io flower-hed, and picks a rose from hush — 
hands it to him, he faJces the rose and Syl- 
via\s hand at the same time — heepitig it as 
he inhaled the rose) 

David. You've changed Sylvia — You've grown 
from childhood into womanhoorl. 

Sylvia. Do I look older? 

David. Yes — little woman — 

Sylvia, (ptits her head down) Oh! I'm so glad 
(hangs down head — sits heside him c, on hench 
under tree) — Look — one grey hair — don't touch it 
— it means age — 

David. One only — and I have so many — 

Sylvia. Only a few on the temples, and that's 
from deep thought. 

David. And the furrows ploughed in on the 
forehead — 

Sylvia, (laughing) I can smooth them away (rises, 
comes round hehind David) (she passes her hands 
over his forehead) See they are all gone — your fore- 
head is as smooth as Harold's. 

David, (rises) Harold! (to l. as Clem, etiters R.) 

Clemantina. Sylvia — child — your supper is 
getting cold — (off porch up R. c.) 

Sylvia, (c.) I don't want any supper — (Clem. 
with a quich motion aside to Sylvia to get out) 



A BACHELOR'S ROMANCE 79 

(Sylvia exUs r. into house. David follow.s her to 
door, stands — looks after her — lost in. thought) 
Clemantina. (nods her head very mysteriously, 
looks around — David looking over his shoulder at 
her in a mystified manner — Miss Clem. — all ex- 
citement — David all ears) Sylvia, she's a clianged 

^^^^"~ . . , . . ■■ 

David, (r.) {in a ivhisper) I've noticed it, but 

for the better I think — her long frocks and hair 

tumbled up — {exit to L.) 

Clemantina. I don't mean her looks, she's got 
something on her mind — Hush! {as Mulberry en- 
ters with a rod) 

Mulberry. Would yon like to join me, Mr. 
Holmes — "The saying goes" — Fishing is good 
around sundown — in the gloaming — "When the . 
sweethearts saunter down the lanes" — then the fish 
begin to ni1)ble. {enter Helen and Savage — pass 
over h ridge. They ivalh sloivly together. Savage 
has his arm around Helen — they go off "R.) 

David, (r.) I may join you — a little later. ■ 
What did yon mean — by something on her mind? 

Clemantina. (l. c.) I mean there's never any 
kissing on the sly like most engaged people — I've 
never seen any kissing at all. 

(Mulberry exits down road l.) 

David {his smile Iroadening) Well — I'm very 
glad — I mean very sorry — we must look into this, 
Miss Clemantina — 

Clemantina. Sy'Lvia is in love with snmehody, '■ 
and not Harold. Find the man! 

(Harriet aiid Gerald enter with Sy'lvia i?. from 
house, behind Clem.) ■ 

GER.A.LD. {on the R., aside to Sylvia) Be a brave -■ 
girl — tell David you don't want to marry Harold ! ^ 
Sylvia. Mr. David — {exit to d.) 



so A BACHELOR'S ROMANCE 

David. We know — 
Clemantina. We know — 
Harriet. We know. 

Gerald, {loolcs at Sylvia puzzled) What do 
they know? 

(Clemantina exits to porch of house r.) 

Sylvia. {to Harriet) Oh, about Gerald — 
(Harriet turns aivay) 

David, (r. c.) Open your heart to me — my boy 
— I want to set matters right for you if I can. 

Gerald, (r.) {manful hj) You can say a word 
in my behalf to the woman I love. (David puts 
his hand out to Sylvia) Brother David — if she will 
judge me by what I am — not what I was — if she 
will help me to make something out of my life — 
Harriet — 

David, (c. amazed) Harriet! — 

Sylvia. Yes, Mr. David, he loves her with all 
his heart and soul — Harriet — say — say it. 

David, {gladly) Yes — Harriet — say — say it. 

Harriet, {softly) Gerald — 

Gerald, {eagerly grasping her hands) Harriet! 
— (Sylvia goes off softly up l.) (Gerald puts his 
arm around Harriet and they cross L. together over 
the bridge, exit after Helen and Savage) 

David, (c.) {looking over his glasses humorous- 
ly) Miss Clemantina — you were mistaken — you 
see. 

Clemantina. (r.) Mr. Holmes— I still insist— 
Sylvia is in love — find the man — {exits house r.) 

David. {maTte a move up) I must face this most 
disagreeable duty — I must — find the man Sylvia 
loves. 

Harold, {enters from house r.) I'm off, Mr. 
Holmes. 

David, (c. fussing) I'm going with this train — 



A BACHELOR'S ROMANCE 81 

I must bo in town to-night — (c.) Harold, what's 
wrong between you and Sylvia? 

Harold, (r. c.) Oh, nothing, but we have both 
decided not to think of marriage for some time. To 
speak candidly, Mr. Holmes, a young man is a fool 
to hamper himself with a wife at the beginning of 
his career — and one who is not in sympathy with 
his ambition — Sylvia cares nothing for my success 
— (enter Sylvia l.) She cares nothing for me. 

Sylvia (l. c.) (agitatedly) Mr. David, I am 
only a field mouse born for a quiet corner. Harold 
likes glare and life and show, we would never be 
happy together — I — (extends he?' hand piteoiislij to 
David who takes it — gazes at it for a moment, then 
draivs the ring from her finger and hands it to 
Harold. Crosses in front of David. Sylvia tit rows 
herself doivn on bench l. face in hands) 

Harold, (r. c.) (takes ring, looks at it very 
much agitated) Everything has gone against me — 
since — I won the prize — 

David, (c) (kindly to Harold) Success has 
been too much for you — Go back to town, my boy 
— work it off — work it off — work it off — (Harold 
looks at Sylvia, l. then exits on road toiuards l., 
over bridge r.) 

Sylvia, (l.) (raises her head and gives a long 
peal of laughter — jumps up) (bus. then demurely 
approaching David) Mr. David — I'm too old for 
Harold. His character is not yet formed. He 
doesn't know what he wants — 

David, (c.) Do you? 

Sylvia, (l. c.) (nodding her head) Yes — 

David, (r. c.) A few friends — books and things 
— and somebody to keep house for — (fiercely) "Who 
is the somebody? — 

Sylvia, (l. c.) The man of my choice and when 
we're m^arried — you shall come and live with me — 



82 A BACHELOR'S ROMANCE 

David, (c.) (quicMy) Nothing could induce 
me to do that — Sylvia — 
Sylvia. Oh, you'll come. 

David. Are you quite sure — this time? 
Sylvia. Yes, Mr. David, I loved this man ever 
since I was seven years old. Mr. David — I'll — I'll 
tell you who he is — if you ask me — 

David. Wait a minute. Stop, Sylvia, stop — 
(fussing) Miss Clemantina — Miss Clemantina — 

Sylvia, (in despair) Oh, dear! — Why can't he 
understand — 

Clemantina. (enters from house — leading Mar- 
tin — puts him in arm chair on balcony) I'll come 
in a moment. I'm busy now. 

David, (fussing) Helen. Helen! — (exit on a 
run) 

Sylvia. He'll have the whole neighborhood here 
in a minute. 

Helen, (enters excited, foUoired hy Savage) 
Why, David, you must be clean out of your mind. 
Harold gone — and Sylvia in love with some one 
else? 

David. Yes, some country playmate, I imagine. 
It's one of the farm hands. 

Clemantina. (horrified R.) One of the farm 
hands ? 

David, (solemnly) She has confessed all. (Ger- 
ald enters ivith Harriet) 

Sylvia, (hysterically) Oh!— Mr. David— what 
a story, (into Gerald's arms) Gerald — he's the 
stupidest man in the whole world. 

Gerald. Let me tell him. 

Sylvia. What!— before all these people. 

Helen, (r. c.) Gerald — you know. 

Gerald. Yes — (Sylvia exits l. over bridge R. 
on a run) 



A BACHELOR'S ROMANCE 83 

David (excitedly) Gerald — is he worthy of her 
— is he — 

Gerald, (l. c.) He's a good man — and she loves 
him with all her simple, faithful little heart. But 
— unfortunately — ^he is blind — 

David. Blind! (enter Mulbeeey — hide behind 
pump) 

Gerald, (l. c.) He can see — ^but he won't — 
(significantly at David) David — if he keeps her 
dancing after him much longer he'll lose her. 

David, (c.) (grabling Gerald) The man of her 
choice — is — 

Gerald, (l. c.) Yourself — 

David, (solemnly) I don't believe you — (Ger- 
ald throws up his hands in, comic despair and goes 
to Harriet l.) 

Mulberry. Mr. Holmes (at pump) wouldn't it 
be a good plan to go and ask the young lady? 

David. (quicMij) A very good plan — thank you 
—Mulberry — I think I'll — Where is she? (mahes 
a dash after Sylvia l., on a run over the bridge) 

Mulberry. Over there in the daisy-fields saying 
— he loves me, he loves me not, etc. 

Clemantina. Well, who would have thought it. 

Martin, (r.) (to Clem.) I knew it all the 
time — 

Helen", (e. c.) What could I have been think- 
ing of — 

Savage, (r. of Helen) Of me — 

Mulberry, (on^ bridge l.) ^'Here they are — 
they are coming. 

David, (comes over bridge drawing Sylvia 
after him — brings her to center) (Sylvia flies to 
Helen who embraces her) (in a dazed condition) 
Miss Clemantina — I — I was the man — I was look- 
ing for — (Sylvia embraces Miss Clem.). (David 
grasps Gerald's hands) I — (tlien exit to Martin) 



NIV 1 1912 



84 A BACHELOK'S ROMANCE 

Maetk^. (on balcony) Mr. David — 

David, (grasps his hands, then holes at his 
watch) I — I must be in town to-night. (Sylvia 
exits into house e.) Good-bye — God bless yon all 
— I — I'm a happy man — Sylvia! (Sylvia rushes 
out, hat on and comes to e. of David) Where are 
you going? 

Sylvia, (e. c.) With you. 

David, (l. c.) You can't go with me — (Syl- 
via recoils with a little cry) 

Gerald, (l.) Don't you see David — (whispers 
to him) 

David, (c. to Sylvia) I have so much to do — 
and I won't have time to come here again- — we 
might just as well — I've waited all my life — It's no 
use waiting — I'll stay over until — Sylvia v/ill you 
go home with me? 

Sylvia, (goes to liis arms) (he gathers her in 
his anus. Others turn their hacks. Mr. M. pulls in 
a fish) 

CUETAIN 




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